


Freaks

by Sakuraiai



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Confusion, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Multi, Mutant Powers, Mutual Pining, Necromancy, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Shiro is Keith's Parent (Voltron), Slow Burn, Telekinesis, Telepathy, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:28:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 109,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuraiai/pseuds/Sakuraiai
Summary: Ever since he was little, Keith had been able to hear other peoples thoughts.He hated it, he had become an orphan because of it.He was all alone in this world, listening to the inane thoughts of the world around him, wishing the demon in his mind would just shut up and let him be.But then he was adopted by a man who had nothing but good intentions for him, who saw Keith and wanted to take care of him, who didn't think Keith was an annoyance. Someone who understood just what Keith was going through. As if he knew. And then Keith met Pidge, a techie gremlin, and Hunk, the most kindest chef Keith had ever met.And then Keith met Lance...And then Keith met Lance...And then Keith met Lance...
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 360
Kudos: 384





	1. Voices

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Ai is back!  
> I know its been a while since I've posted anything up, but I'm glad to say I am tumour free, with a sick scar and a good few months of recovery done and dusted.
> 
> This is just a taster of what is to come, so it's going to be a little slow going -- no daily updates, or at least I hope I will have the time to do so, but I wouldn't hold my breath. This is just a new idea that would not leave my head while I was in recovery, without a computer or a screen to keep me interested (it was hell, I am so glad I'm out of there---wait, what the heck is corona?)
> 
> I hope everyone is doing well during these absolutely shit times, and I hope this story makes up for all the crap that's happening.
> 
> Just FYI, this starts off sad, but it will be all cute and fun, like my usual stories are.  
> We need Keith's tragic back story.

Voices. 

That was all he could ever hear. 

Sick, distorted, tar like voices that dripped like burning acid on his skin, and forced bile down his throat. Demonic words that buckled his knees and forced him to the ground, pushing him down so fast and so hard that he’d physically feel it on his flesh. 

They were present now, too. At a mere eight years of age, he stood on the mucky and murky grass, rain falling like torrential slats, obscuring everything and everyone around him. They glimmered and glittered in large putrid helpings. The monster he kept hidden inside his small and frail body eating away at his vulnerability, at his helplessness. He watched, feeling useless as two big black coffins that held his beautiful and wonderful momma and papa were going down, lower and lower into the hole in the ground. 

The pretty pink and white roses and wild flowers on the casket looked almost obscene and wrong as they sat on the polished black lids, shivering a little as the coffins were wheeled down together, lower and lower until they all but disappeared into the earth. 

_How could he do such a thing?_

The voices were always there. Voices of people he knew, of people he loved. They waited for him when he was at his most vulnerable, and then the monster would clamp onto his back, so hot and heavy as it weighed down on his shoulders. He could feel those long demon-like fingers claw into his head, squeezing and squeezing until he felt like he would burst. 

_They're dead because of you._

The sound of those voices echoed in his head. He had learned not to answer them; he had learned to keep his mouth shut when they spoke to him. It was hard to ignore the voices, but his little eight year old mind did its best. He focused now instead on his surroundings, the taste of putrid ash soaked with the humid air, the almost morbid beauty of the aging tombstones all lined in pretty rows, the cold almost freezing feeling of the rain pelting down on him, stinging his skin through his drenched black suit. 

_Demon child._

_He's the devil._

**_You’re a_** ** _freak!_ **

Thankfully, he had no more tears to be masked by the rain. They had been wiped away when the man in a suit, from the government he had said, sat him down and told him momma and papa weren’t coming home. 

He remembered his momma, she had been so beautiful, her hair had been so pretty and long, and he loved sitting on her lap and tangling his fingers in her braid, listening as she hummed a sweet tune. She had never had any bad thoughts towards him. She was always so calm, so melodious, so lovely. He loved her so. 

He remembered his papa, he had been so strong, yet so kind, always telling him stories about brave knights and princesses they had to save. He remembered the way his papa would smell like soot and ash, yet he was always smiling, even when he came back in the middle of the night. Always thinking of love and adoration for his family. He always wrapped his big and strong arms around him, spinning him up in the air and holding him close. 

He hadn’t expected them to never come back. He had never expected them to…to… 

Though the man in the suit hadn’t told him what had happened, he was too young to understand, but he had heard the words as clear as day. 

_They'd still be alive if it wasn't for you._

He had no more tears. His head was aching, pounding with too much pain and yet he was numb to it all now. His eyes lost their usual vigour, his body felt limp, as if he was just going with the motions now. Standing there, solid yet wavering, as his family, his relatives, his only home, stood behind him. They were watching him, thinking words of demons and malice, of disgust and fear. All because of him. All because he had asked for his momma, all because he had been too young, all because he had fallen ill. 

**All because of** **you** **.**

He had no other family. The man in the suits’ presence was next to him, towering over him in a way that brought the demons in his head closer and closer, making its demonic grip tighter and tighter. No one was there anymore. No one understood him and the voices in his head. 

He was alone. 

What was the point anymore? 

He stood there, watching as the pastor man said a few prayers, his thoughts revolving around exhaustion, around selfish ache, around boredom. His parents lay dead on the ground and yet the pastor man was bored. 

Useless. 

It was all useless. He watched as the mulch and muck soil was thrown onto the coffin, as if it were a second thought, as if it was a chore. There was nothing left anymore. Nothing at all for him to care about. His only solace, his only void, his everything was taken away by a drunk driver and a three car pileup. He didn’t know what that meant, but he had heard everyone around him think it. Showing him gruesome images of blood and metal, cars overturned, fire and smoke. Death and destruction. 

_I hate you for looking like her._

He had been told he looked like his momma, they’d always said he had the same hair and eyes. He agreed, he’d see it every time he looked in the mirror, prodding at the bottom of his eyes and gazing at the iridescent blue. Momma’s eyes looked like galaxies were swirling inside them. And he was so excited and happy he had the same. Which was why he would sit on her lap, happily, and listen to his momma speaking to others, acting like the perfect gentleman his momma always called him. He ignored the jealousy in their minds, the hate and disgust they thought about his momma and his family. Because his momma loved him, she cared for him. She kept him safe, she kept him whole. 

But now his momma was gone. His papa was gone. And he was left here, all alone. 

“Come along, Keith,” he looked up to the man, seeing the physical wince in his eyes as he thought of how he had to look after yet another orphaned child. 

“Yes sir,” he replied, his voice solemn and soft, devoid of all emotion. He didn’t want to rouse any ill thoughts. Be a gentleman. Be kind. Be good. But he just couldn’t take anymore. 

His heart heavy, he took one last, long, lingering look at where his parents lay. The earth was overturned over her body, the procession walking around and saying one final silent prayer before they left for their next funeral. 

The pastor stood at the mouth of the church, hidden under the awnings, away from the pouring rain, giving his blessings as they slowly started to leave. They had all given him a once over, patting him on his neat hair, and tsking in commiseration. He watched them, his face blank, head aching, eyes stinging, lips set in a grim line. 

He stood just like the gentleman his momma always called him. But he could hear each and every one of their sick thoughts. 

_Freak._

_Demon._

_Devil child._

**It's all your fault.**

_Your mother was a bad influence on you._

**It's all your fault.**

_Your parents died because you had a little cold?_

_What a waste._

**_It's all your fault._**

Too much. Too much. It was all _too much._ Breathing was futile with how erratic it was, his chest rising and falling, fingers and toes going numb, he could hear his heart jack rabbiting in his chest. He tugged on his too tight tie and pushed passed the others around him, not caring about being a gentleman then. He needed to get away, to get far away from their accusations, from their hate. He didn’t hear the man calling him, but he heard the aggravation, the annoyance in his thoughts. 

_I can't deal with him now!_

So he ran. Ran fast and ran far. Trying to force the voice out of his head, ignore them. Ignore them. Please just go way. Please don’t do this to me. I can’t take it anymore. 

**You’re a f** **reak!**

He ran through a forest, not knowing how he got there, or where he was. But he could see the church behind him, spied the spires in the distance, and he knew he had stumbled into the forest behind the church itself, just passed the cemetery. Where his parents lay. 

The sounds were less abusive here, the voices less prominent, but they were still present. So he made his way in deeper, hoping the distance and the deepness would stop all of the sounds that were taking over his mind. The stalks and branches tugged on his neat hair and clothes, ruining them, and making pin pricks of pain add to his suffering. He had to get away. 

_It’s all your fault._

_They died because of you._

_I hate that you look like her._

No. No, no, no, no. Stop it. He held a hand to his ears, hoping and praying that for once the voices would disappear, but they were directly in his head, and no amount of outside sound would really force them away. Nothing could really quieten them down. 

_…_ _Please get up!_

Wait. He paused mid run and stood still and silent, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. He could clearly hear the voice over the pounding of his heart, over the ache in his legs. 

_Please work!_

There! 

This voice, it wasn’t filled with tar and malice, it wasn’t filled with indifference and boredom like the others he heard around him. It was…something else. It sounded like his mother’s voice. Soft and sweet, calm and comforting. 

His feet moved of their own accord, and he found himself standing in front of a big and wide oak tree. It rose so high up into the dark skies, shading him from the pelting rain. On one of the large and strong looking branches was a small treehouse. It wasn’t much, just a plank of wood with four plywood walls and a slanted roof. There were windows and doors cut out from the wood itself, the misspelled words “No Entery, Pidge & Matt's Howse”, written on the large plywood plaque above the cut out door. 

At the foot of the enormous tree sat a young blonde haired kid, she looked like a boy, but she could be a girl. But they looked to be a little younger than Keith himself. They were holding onto a big furry animal, running a soothing hand over the animal’s fur. 

A dog, it was dying. 

“Please, let this work!” the young blonde girl said, and Keith knew the kid was Pidge, the name from the plaque on the tree house itself. 

He stepped closer to the kid, to Pidge, wanting to tell them that the dog was dying, that he was almost completely dead. He knew it. He could feel it. The sick, dark, smoke like feeling that was choking him. 

But then…suddenly it wasn’t. 

Keith felt the surge of heat, followed by a cool chill in the air as the dog suddenly got up from the kids’ lap, head cocked to one side. He could hear the elation, the joy in the kids’ thoughts as they yelled; “It worked, it actually worked!” 

It was such a bright, brilliant and perfect light that shone through the darkness in his current life. There was something there that made Keith walk forward, get closer to the kid, wanting to speak to them, to see them, to know them. 

He saw Pidge turn back, holding a hand out to him, the smile on their face reminded Keith of a sunny day, their eyes were bright and filled with unshed tears of happiness. 

“I did it, did you see? I did it!” they whispered so boldly, their fingers grasping at the dogs fur, patting and stroking him to wakefulness. 

Keith nodded, settling down next to the kid. There was so much mirth in their mind, so much happiness, that it momentarily stunned him. How could someone be so happy over an animal? He didn’t understand. But he wanted to be near them, he wanted to bask in the thoughts that permeated his mind when he was around Pidge. 

It was so sweet, so much so. But the monster in his head was clawing its way through his thoughts, deeper and darker than ever before. No. No! He wasn’t going to allow it, not when he was finally able to see a hopeful road to peace, to something that wasn’t hate. 

“How did you do that?” he asked, wanting to reach for the animal, wanting to stroke it and feel its heat, feel its strength. He could hear the rumbling in the animals’ chest, feel the swirling emotions and thoughts bubble up inside it. 

And then he heard the dogs’ intentions. 

Wait… 

No. There was something wrong with it, like a distortion. The senses he had felt from the dog were wrong, it felt like he was listening to the voice itself from underwater. He felt like he was being drowned, the sound was off, it was _wrong._

The dog was going to attack. 

Keith moved, shoving Pidge aside, throwing the smaller body onto the floor as he screamed at the dog. He stood perfectly still in front of the beast, trying to look bigger, like a threat. The dog would not hurt Pidge, he would not hurt the sound of them, the sound that reminded Keith of his mother, of a time when he was happy. 

When the dog didn’t look like it was backing away, he reached for the nearest weapon he could find. A wayward branch, and raised the heavy stick high in the air, slamming it down onto the dogs side. The dog whined, letting out a pathetic growl, barking and barking so loud that it caused the ever present ache in Keith’s mind to distort too, turning sharper and bigger. He couldn’t feel anything but the thud, thud, thud of the miasmic distortion growing, pulsing and melding. The pain of it dropped him straight to the ground and he screamed. 

He screamed so loud that the world around him was brought to silence. The voices swirled in his mind, gathered together and grew into this sick miasmic demon that reached out for him, yanking at his hair, claws digging rivulets of blood in his heads, squeezing and squeezing so hard and so strong that he was sure he was going to burst. 

Pidge had come up beside him, placing a warm and welcoming hand on his shoulder. They spoke words that Keith didn’t hear nor understand. The monster, the demon in his mind only tightened his grip, grasping at his body, tendrils squirming and tightening around his throat and chest, constricting his breathing, hurting him in a way that he was unable to stop. 

Pidge was yelling at him now, but their words were…not…she was a bright and brilliant, like a bright star in the never-ending darkness. Instilling hope and care into his life. But just as quickly, the monster appeared, snuffing out the light. His heart beat madly, his breathing coming in quick gasps. 

Momma. He wanted his momma. 

**_Momma is dead, little thing. And you're going to be next._ **

The voice was deep and frightening, sickening. It was awful and all sorts of wrong as it spoke straight into his mind. It made him shudder and shiver and want to throw up. 

_Debería haber sido mejor. Debería...I should have been better!_

That voice. 

Like a lilting rose petal floating serenely to the ground, like the very sun soaring slowly across the skies. It reminded him of home, his _real_ home, when he was in his mothers’ arms, listening to her sing to him, when the voices were a distant memory, a faraway dream. 

He grasped onto that voice, holding it tight in his hands. It felt warm and inviting in the darkness that clouded his mind, it felt wonderful and hopeful, like a bright light in a wretched storm of his mind. He ached, desperate to find where that voice was coming from, and just why it was making him feel so…calm. 

He opened his eyes, not knowing when or how he had closed them, and felt himself being lifted up from the ground. The feel arms crowding around him, followed by the sound of the government man’s thoughts of annoyance, of exhaustion. 

Looking back, he saw Pidge standing by the tree. The dog was long gone, having run away when he had scared it off. She was looking at him, her eyes wide and knowing, as if she knew what was happening. As if she understood. 

No one understood. 

He heard the man ask the girl questions, and soon motioned for her to leave. The girl, Pidge, nodded and made her way through the parting trees to a house in the distance. He hadn’t even _noticed_ the house, or the clearing he was in. 

The man gave him a look, it was almost hopeful, almost caring. But Keith knew better, this man didn’t seem like he was one for caring. He only saw Keith as another job, another annoyance. 

**You should have died along with your parents.**

The monster was here, the monster was out of its cage for now, and he was clawing deeply into Keith’s head, whispering hate in his ear. Keith closed his eyes, forcing it back, ignoring it until it slowly disappeared. Still there, still hot and heavy on his back, but at least it was letting him have a moment to himself. 

_…get you to the orphanage, and then what?_

Keith stood there, holding onto the man’s hand, watching as the forest slowly turned back to the church, and then to the car park at the front of the church. The man sat him down in the backseat of his car, buckling him up in a seat belt. He then sat on the drivers’ seat and started the car. Keith sat in the back of his car, looking out of the window, seeing the rain splatter on the glass. 

This was it…he had lost his parents, he had lost his only solace. And now he was here, the monster sitting in the back of his mind...it…hurt. 

**You’re a freak.**

Maybe he was a freak…


	2. Doctor Wasti

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adam makes an appearance!  
> Now, I always thought Adam was better suited to be Pakistani (no self insertion whatsoever...ahem).  
> When I had first seen him, I had thought 'Oh look! Another Cuban/Spanish descent in an American cartoon' (no disrespect to the very little Cuban/Spanish characters out there! You guys deserve the validation as much as we do).  
> But then I thought...no, there is nothing to say he is anything but tanned skin, glasses and hazel brown eyes. He could very easily be Punjabi or Kashmiri.  
> So. Yes, Adam is Pakistani.  
> You can pry that head canon from my cold, dead hands. 
> 
> (and yes, everything will be written in Roman English, and I will translate everything I can alongside it, hover over if your on a comp/laptop, or see the end notes on everything else)

Tick....tick...tick...tick... 

Keith’s fingers twitched silently with the clock ticking on the wall. 

Clack...clack...clack....clack... 

His gaze darted to the Newtons Cradle sitting on the large desk, listening as it came in time with the ticking clock. It soothed him, as most metronomic sounds did to people, forcing him to focus on the sound and sight before him, and not of his _problem child, this one is a problem child!_

Tick...clack...tick...clack...tick...clack... 

The tan skinned man cleared his throat as quietly as possible under his breath, as not to break Keith’s concentration from wherever it had gone. Keith’s gaze darted from the shiny rocking balls and up to the man. He looked Asian, maybe Pakistani – Keith couldn’t understand the steady stream of English and another language coming from his thoughts. But he recognised the few things he was saying in English. Keith was not a religious person, but he knew the name of the Muslim God, Allah. He read a lot of books when he could get his hands on them. 

It was weird that he was eager to learn another language, nothing had ever prompted him this much interest. Though, whenever he read other peoples’ minds and they spoke another language, he may not be able to understand what they were saying, but he could understand the feeling behind it. 

That was usually enough. But for some reason, he was very interested in learning Urdu, and whatever dialect he was speaking in. He shook himself from the thought and returned to watching the doctor. He was sitting there silently, even his mind was quiet, like he was whispering even as he thought – which was a nice damper on the loud cacophony of voices that swirled in his mind on a regular basis. 

How was he able to do that though? How was he able to lower the volume of his voice in his head? Was this something he had instinctively learned when he trained to be a therapist? Or was this a weird pastime of his. 

It didn’t matter. He was going to be just like the rest of them after all. 

Dr. Adam Wasti. 

His name on the plaque on the desk was polished to a clean shine, there was a laptop on the table too, just as pristine and dust free. Its screen was down, and there was a half drunk coffee cup next to it – Keith could smell the coffee beans from where he was sitting. Next to the coffee cup was a photo frame, facing away from Keith, it looked like it had been smudged a few times, there were a few weirdly placed gems _out of place_ on the frame. Most likely it meant that he touched it a lot. 

Keith focused on him again, watched as his fingers grasped at the manilla folder that held his entire life story. He could hear snippets of what Dr. Wasti was reading, with the few English words he was thinking. He had heard it being repeated by every doctor he had been to before; he knew the words on the folder by heart now. 

_‘...lost his parents at such a young age, bechara, itna chotta aur dono ma baap chale gahe?..._

_...four years in foster care..._ three _foster homes in four years?..._

_...prone to anger issues, of course he is, bechara..._

_...symptoms of borderline personality disorder, abandonment issues, unstable self-image, impulsive tendencies, suicidal behaviour, severe dissociative symptoms...twelve first sessions with different therapists and this was what they came up with? Mushkil lagta hain, itna chotta hain, leikin itna zaada huwa hain. Agar ye mujhe choose kare, phir mein iski madat kar sakta houn. _

_...does not play well with others? Kya? Bakwas! Doctors bhi kaise sochte hain! Of course, he doesn’t play well with others... _

_...been through twelve therapists...maybe I’m lucky number thirteen?_

His mind was focused, laser like as the doctor passed the main pages and to the head scans. It had been mandatory, they had said. And he had listened to them as they had strapped him down onto a table and had the machine curve around his head, a feminine voice telling him to breathe as it beeped menacingly. The machines had freaked him out, even the memory of them now made him shudder. 

The doctor looked up from the pages, noticing the whine that he had accidentally let escape from his lips. He reprimanded himself, he needed to be more careful. 

“It’s okay,” The doctor’s voice was calm, soothing in a weird way that made Keith actually feel calm himself. It was odd, that was for sure. “Do you know where you are, Keith?” 

Twelve year old Keith Kogane nodded, sitting on the plush chair, in front him, eyes narrowing and nose scrunching up as he watched him. 

_...familiar..._

He sat still, eerily so; Adam noted. His body was sagging forward, most likely in exhaustion and stress and he looked extremely slim, maybe from not eating properly, his purple grey eyes were bloodshot and sunken in from not sleeping well. His hair was a mess, and his clothes, a charcoal grey suit jacket that was falling over his shoulders with how big it was on him, an off white shirt that was missing a middle button, and black slacks that Keith had to roll up so he wouldn’t trip and fall. He was wearing dusty and scruffy red sneakers that looked a few sizes too small on him, but other than that, everything looked a few sizes too big on him. 

Even the chair he was sitting on. 

Adam knew the owner of the orphanage must have given him the smartest clothes she had owned, telling him to wear it for his appointment. He could tell Keith was the kind of child who didn’t want to upset others. He probably thought she’d tell him off. 

Miss Haggar was an awfully manipulative woman, and Adam was very invested in getting this little boy away from her. If he could... 

Could he? 

He had had countless of orphaned children as his clients, all of them boasting stories on what they knew about adoption. Fantasies on how some families could be good, and some could be bad. Adam had a loving family himself, they always met up whenever they could, they always were friendly to one another. And when Adam had come out to his parents as gay, they had surprisingly welcomed him with open arms, telling them that they still loved him, and that they knew. 

So, he just couldn’t personally imagine what was going through these children’s minds. He had seen many little children picked up by good families, all of them had been happy and healthy when they had done their final appointments with him. He was always available for them if they decided to continue using his services. 

But there had been a few that had grown older than ‘the cute adoption age’, much like Keith here was. Most parents wouldn’t look over a certain age range when they were looking to adopt. Teenagers were harder to take care of, to get through. 

Keith looked like he was just happy to continue having a roof over his head and food in his stomach. Regardless of how horrid the house owner was to him. 

That just didn’t sit right with Adam. He didn’t know why, he had had many clients similar to Keith, mane who had been worse off than him. But there was something about this little kid that made his heart physically ache. Something that was calling for him to try his hardest to take care of him. Another larger part was telling him to screw appropriation and gather the little boy into a hug and squeeze him close until all the monsters went away. 

He squashed that feeling down, he’d deal with that later, when he had the chance to. 

Instead, he focused back on Keith, watching the little boy sit up a little straighter, his nose scrunching that familiar way again, eyes focused on his own with a laser like focus, his fingers twitching and fidgeting in his lap. He most likely had been through this sort of thing many times before, so it only went to show how much he wanted to leave. 

He didn’t seem to be social – though, Adam did not expect him to be -- a little too quiet for a child his age. He looked smart though. His file told him that Keith was home schooled, that he enjoyed reading and drawing. Or at least they blew that up out of proportion, because it also said ‘he does not like authority’ and _‘does not play well with others’._

That irked Adam. He hated that. And he knew Keith hated it too. Did anyone consider _his_ side of the story? Of why he preferred to be alone? His abandonment issues would make it so he did not open up to others quickly. And with his personality disorders, he would have somewhat violent mood swings. 

Adam recognised the symptoms with a keen familiarity to his lover back home, and to PTSD. This needed to be treated carefully and calmly, with a lot of patience and a lot of silent praise. 

He understood. Because he had gone through the same with Shiro. He wanted to help. 

**_No one will understand._ **

Keith grumbled low in his throat as he sat there, watching the therapist looking at him. He wasn’t going to glance away or back down. If the doctor wanted a staring match, he was going to get it. 

It was the orphanage that had allowed him this “decency” they called it, to try and get him “well again”. His orphanage mother had wanted him out as soon as possible, but he wasn’t a _safe child,_ he had _problems._

Keith knew he wasn’t going to be here in this office with this man for long. So he let the doctor read through his files, as many before had done, and hum here and there, as if they understood what he was going through, as if those test results on those pieces of paper could tell them how to _fix him so I can get rid of him._ While the doctor's thoughts would ricochet to how long a time had passed, and how long they had left with their new client ** _the problem child_** , or what they were going to have for lunch, or how hot the secretary looked. 

But this man, he actually seemed to show some form of professionalism. Keith knew none of his charts made sense, his brain scans had shown a weird and extremely rare abnormality. One that none of the medical doctors could explain.

_The fuck is that? It doesn’t look like a tumour… and he’s showing no signs of abnormality other than the trauma._

The only reason they had taken the brain scan was so that they could see whether the trauma of his parents passing so horrifically hadn’t affected him mentally. No one understood that the big black marks in his brain were the demon, the one who was telling him now how much of a freak he was. 

**_You’re a waste of space. No one will ever love you._ **

He had grown used to shutting the demon out, but sometimes it was just too hard. Especially at night, when the voice would be the loudest, the meanest. He knew he needed help, he needed someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn’t look at him like he was weird or call him a freak. 

But who would help him? Who would understand him? He was all alone in this world after all. All alone with the demon in his head. 

This Dr. Wasti wasn’t going to be any different than the others. Just get on with it. Look at my charts and notes and give him the old spiel. 

Just let me go back into my bed and pretend I’m back home, with my family who love me and care for me. 

_I recognise this brain pattern._

What? 

Keith’s purple eyes shot up. Did he hear that right? Dr. Wasti was looking at his charts, his brain scans, at the black splodges and he said he recognised them? 

“How?” Keith asked, clenching at the metal and plush of the chair. “Who else has the demon?” 

**What are you doing? You can’t tell them!**

_Demon?_

Dr. Wasti’s eyes widened with shock, mouth open in a small ‘o’ shape. Keith leaned away, oh God, had he messed up already? He was going to be sent to that weird hospital the last doctor had thought about, the one with the padded walls and the belted jackets. He knew it! 

“I knew it,” Dr. Wasti finally said, his shock turning into a brilliant smile. “I knew he wasn’t the only one!” 

_He’s going to be so happy about this! I need to tell him! Right now!_

He? Who was he? “What are you talking about?” 

“Oh, right.” The doctor seemed to come to terms with himself, shaking the enthusiasm from his shaking hands. In fact, he was shaking all over. “I’m sorry. Please let me explain.” 

_Where do I start? Oh god. If I start from the beginning. Will he even be okay with… me and Shiro? Or will he be weirded out? Maybe I can tell him…_

“Who is Shiro?” 

Instead of being freaked out at Keith obviously reading his thoughts, the therapist clapped his hands together with glee. 

“Shiro is my…” _Boyfriend? Lover? Absolute gorgeous piece of— fuck, small child who can potentially read your mind here!_ “… friend,” 

Keith raised an eyebrow, but ignored the doctor's internal tirade. Some people thought so vividly or so boringly, but many others had such…interesting thoughts. He wasn’t sure which one Dr. Wasti fell under. 

“He came to me, same as you did,” Dr. Wasti continued, placing his hand on the table. Showing he wasn’t a threat, maybe? Lost in a memory. “He thought he was a freak, but we found out he was so special,” 

Keith scrunched his nose. Special. This stupid demon made him special? It wasn’t some cool mutant superpower like from the comics he borrowed from his bunk mate; it was a curse! 

“You get headaches, right?” Dr. Wasti interrupted him, as if he knew himself what Keith was thinking. Maybe he did. “Really bad ones? Ones that even medicine can’t fix?” 

Keith nodded. 

“Shiro has them too. But I know a way to help him, and I’m sure I can help you too,” Dr. Wasti stated, his hand reached out for a photo frame on the table, and Keith was suddenly transported to his memory of that picture, of the doctor and Shiro at an amusement park, eating cotton candy and kissing the sugar away, smiling widely as they took a selfie together. 

They were so in love. 

It was sweet. 

**No one will ever love you.**

Shut up. You think I don’t know that? But if… Shiro is like him, and he and Dr. Wasti are happy… 

Doesn’t that mean he could be happy too? 

“I’m _sure_ I can help you, Keith.” _ Khuda vaaste,_ “I will make it my mission to help you,” Dr. Wasti stated with determination. “You’re not broken, or cursed, or bad. You have a gift. This is a beautiful gift. And if you let me, I will do everything in my power to _help_ you,” _I’ve done this before and been successful, I know I can be the same for you._

**_He'll leave you! Just like everyone else has. He doesn’t care. No one can care for someone like you. Pathetic._ **

Keith scrunched his nose, feeling a headache coming on. No. What was he supposed to do? 

_Please, I just want to help. I want Shiro to know he’s not alone. I want you to know you’re not alone. You can both help one another. Please._

“It’s your choice whether you chose me as your therapist,” he stated, though his thoughts were so loud, so worried, as if everything was hanging on what Keith said next. “But I want you to know, I really just want to help you,” 

_I want to help you both._

_Please._

_Please let me help you._

_I can’t lose you Shiro._

Keith sucked in a breath, he vaulted off the chair and stood as tall as he could on the tiled ground. Dr. Wasti looked at him, tilting his head to one side in confusion. 

Keith didn’t say a word to the doctor, instead he turned around and made his way to the door. It was like this sometimes too. They’d spin words, talk all big. But then they’d show their true colours. And that was what he was waiting for, for that inevitable change in the man’s thoughts. When they would turn to hatred, when they would turn selfish. 

Keith held the door handle poised to open it. 

_I just…wanted to help. I’m sorry Shiro._

Heart break. Keith had felt this before, when he had watched his family being buried in the rain, when he had been shoved from one orphanage to another, from one doctor to another. They didn’t care for him; they didn’t want him. They didn’t help him. 

“Okay, Dr. Wasti,” he said suddenly, mind made up. “I hope you can,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bechara, itna chotta aur dono ma baap chale gahe? - poor thing, so little and both his mother and father are gone?  
> bechara - poor thing  
> Mushkil lagta hain, itna chotta hain, leikin itna zaada huwa hain. Agar ye mujhe choose kare, phir mein iski madat kar sakta houn. - it looks difficult, he's so young, but so much has happened to him. If he chooses me, then I can help him.  
> Kya? Bakwas! Doctors bhi kaise sochte hain! - what? bullshit, how do doctors think? (basically, the previous doctors were idiots)  
> Khuda vaaste, - with Gods will.


	3. Rewind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has been having nightmares about a certain horrifying moment in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is going to get a little confusing (which one of my fics isn't?)  
> But you'll see as you read through.  
> Comment if you have any questions or are just like 'Ai, what the fuck?'.  
> I'll be happy to explain.
> 
> **Warning!**  
>  Fic-canonical death, car crashes and a struggling child.  
> I am so sorry.

No this...this couldn’t be happening. 

_Not again._

Fire...there was so much fire around him. It was hot, so hot, and so loud! It almost deafened his small ears. Smoke was filling up in the car, thick and strong in the air, choking him. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. The seat belt on his booster seat was wrapped tight around his chest, around his legs, keeping him inside, forcing him to his tilted seat. 

The car was upside down. 

Something had hit it hard from his mami’s side. His papi had screamed, turning the car in a mess of circles. He was jerked to the other side as something just as big hit the right side of the car, his papi’s side. The car shuddered and careened to the others side, flipping and turning over on its head like a catapult. It landed with a heavy thud on its roof. His stomach hurt, it felt like it was dancing and jumping, flipping and turning. His body ached; his head felt dizzy. 

And then everything stopped. 

The car was upside down, his body was hanging, only held by the seat belts cutting into his skin. He was so frightened. He could see the smoke coming closer, it smelled icky and wrong. The smoke made it hard to see, and his fingers were slippery with red blood and dirty sweat. There were little snowflakes of glass littered everywhere. The air was coming in through the cracked and broken windows, whipping his clothes back and forth. One of his legs was aching, bending in ways he hadn’t thought they’d ever be able to do. 

He needed to get out of here. 

_Mami! Papi!_ He tugged on the seat belts, hoping and wishing they would move. He was so scared. _Please stop it hurting!_ He looked down, to where the roof of the car was, and cried out at the ache in his chest. There was something on his legs, something hot and sticky, and it hurt, oh god it hurt. 

He cried, loud and wet, tears falling, the ache just hot enough to keep him awake and in pain, but not enough to let him pass out from it all. 

“Mami….” He cried through the pain, tugging at the seat belt. He hadn’t been taught how to get out of it, he had watched his mami and papi do it countless of times, but his hands wouldn’t move. He was shaking, shivering. 

He heard something move in front of him, with a sick and wet thump against the glass on the ground. He looked ahead and saw his mami and papi, both of them with their eyes closed, blood seeping and fire burning. 

“Mami! Papi!” He cried through the loud sound of the fire quickly filling up around them. He screamed for them, crying again and again as he tried to wake them up. Why won’t they wake up? “Wake up Mami! Please!” 

Why weren’t they waking up? With a groan and a scary hot pain on his side, he forced his body to cooperate. Everything ached, but he was motivated to move, he needed to do this. He had to! 

Frustration and fear grew in his stomach as he wrapped his hands around the seat belt strap. He tugged and tugged and tugged at it, but the seat belt wouldn’t budge, neither would it bend. He was stuck here, scared and crying. He cried out to his parents again, but they wouldn’t reply, they didn’t move. Nothing. 

It was like they were dead. 

“No! No! Mami!” He screamed, reaching his hands out to them, his fingers moving, stretching as far as possible. Just…please, just let me touch them, let me feel them. Something, anything. _Please!_

He moved his fingers in a way that caused his head to suddenly hurt, caused his body to feel cold, like he was dunked into icy water. But then, he felt like he was being dunked in a too hot bath, held aloft in the fearful skies. He could feel arms wrapping around his body, cutting through his seat belts and slowly and carefully dragging him out of the seat. 

No! No! Stop! 

Looking up, he saw a large and scary man dressed in bright yellow. He had a transparent helmet covering half of his face, and a mask covering his mouth and nose. He struggled in the mans’ grasp, but the man just held him tight. His eyes were kind, as he helped him out of the car. 

“No! Let me go! Mami! Papi!” He cried, coughing and shaking out of his hold. his body ached, his leg protesting against every move. No! This can’t be happening! He needed to get to his parents, he needed to get them out. _Why weren’t they getting his mami and papi out?_

The smoked was like a cloud over the wreckage, and he knew it in his heart, his parents weren’t coming out alive. He fell limp in the man's arms, crying and crying and crying until he couldn’t breathe, until his body felt weak and exhausted. 

He reached out to his parents, seeing the destruction it its wake. There were three cars mangled together, all in a fiery ball in the middle of the road. There were sirens and police everywhere. Flashing lights that hurt his eyes. 

No, this couldn’t be possible. 

No! No! _No!_

He saw two other massive men in yellow make their way to the car, another man standing next to a red fire truck, holding a hose out to the wreckage, white foam like water flying out of it, onto the three cars, dousing the fire. 

“Where does it hurt?” The man in yellow asked, he held onto his head, keeping him in place, as a woman moved him over to a stretcher. He was spouting off long and complicated words to the firefighters. 

“My name is Doctor Morrisey, what’s your name?” He asked, his hands were everywhere, pressing in places that hurt as he checking his body. “How old are you?” 

“K…Keith…my name…is Keith, I’m eight,” Wait, no. Lance, his name was Lance. Not Keith! 

He gasped; the doctors’ fingers were harsh on his skin. The doctor apologised before moving to the next spot. “Where are my mami and papi?” 

The look on the doctors’ and firefighters' faces was answer enough. He didn’t have to hear them say it. Looking back to the slowly dousing fire, he knew. 

His parents were dead. No... no. Keith’s...Keith’s parents were...wait. What was happening? 

**_Your fault, it's all your fault. If only you hadn’t felt sick, if only you had sucked it up, they would still be alive._ **

No... Keith. No. 

**_You’re pathetic. Useless._ **

It’s not your fault. 

_It should have been me._

He heard himself scream; his heart unable to take it. The pain in his entire body was just too much for him to bear. He reached out for his parents as the doctor moved him into the ambulance. His fingers clenching and turning in the air, he wanted desperately to stop time, to go back to when they were happier. To go back to when they were watching the movie and he was happy in his papi’s arms as he held him up. He wished his parents were alive again. 

Like a flash of light, he suddenly found himself sitting in his booster seat again, looking up to his mami and papi talking about the movie they had just gone to watch, laughing and smiling and looking normal. His father turned his head to look at him, and smiled so wide. 

“Are you feeling better now, Keithy-cat?” he asked him. 

Lance was confused. What was happening? Who were these people? They didn’t look like his mami and papi, but they _felt_ like them. Who else could they be? But. He was _sure_ he had seen them…that he had seen them die. He was sure he had felt the pain of the car turning, he was _sure_ he had been dragged out by a firefighter while his parents lay dead in the front seats. 

And yet, he was here. 

“Sweetheart?” Mami said, looking back to him as well. 

Shaking his head, Lance smiled. It must have been a really scary dream. “I’m feeling a little better, I’m sorry we had to cut the movie short,” he replied, feeling an overwhelming need to go and hug his parents. He would do that when they were safe at home. 

He didn’t notice the car careening down the street to them, neither was he prepared for what he had already known was going to happen. The car screeched on the road, hitting his mami’s side, and just like before, just like his dream. Their car spun in a frightening circle, almost flying as their car danced along the road. Another car hit them from the other side almost an instant later, and their car turned over, the glass breaking and sprinkling like snowflakes around him. 

“Mami!” He cried out, and saw his mami and papi were already bleeding out, heads rolling back and forth, side to side, as the car spun to a complete stop. 

No, please, not again! 

And that was when the fire came, it filled the car, dancing along the ground, cracking the windows and doors, setting the car seats on fire. It was hot, so hot, _too hot._ He struggled against the bonds holding him in place as he saw his life being destroyed for the second time in his mind. 

No, no, no, no, _no!_

“Mami! Papi!” He cried, screaming as he tried to force the seat belt from his body. But that was when he noticed the pain in his leg again, it was strong and harsh, just as it had been before. his body was struggling as it strained against the seat belt cutting into his skin, forcing his breaths back. 

_No!_

He jumped as the car door was yanked open off its hinges, and dark gloved hands came for him. The firefighter cut through his seat belt with sharp looking scissors and held him up and off the seat, pulling him carefully out of the car and to safety. _No!_ He struggled in the man’s grasp again, screaming and crying. This was not happening again; this couldn’t be happening. 

“Mami! Papi!” 

The firefighter held his head, placing Lance on the gurney and started yelling words to the doctor, and for the second time that day, Lance cried for Keith’s dead parents. The doctor loomed over his head once again. “My name is Doctor Morrisey, what is your name?” 

He shook his head, his neck protesting at the sudden movements. No, this wasn’t happening. _No!_ He reached out his hand for his parents, please, please, no. Please, let me go. I need to go to them; I need to tell them. I… 

He screamed “Mami! Papi!” 

**_Your fault! All your fault!_**

His breath caught in his throat. He was sitting back in his booster seat once again, looking forward to his... _Keith’s_ parents talking about the movie they had just watched. He didn’t hesitate this time, he was _not_ going to witness his parents dying for a third time that day. No way, no how. 

“Papi!” He cried, calling his fathers’ attention. 

“What’s wrong Keithy-cat?” he asked, turning to look at his from the mirror on the windshield, his eyes filled with worry. 

His mother turned around completely, looking just as worried. “Are you feeling worse? Where does it hurt, kit?” 

Lance shook his head. “Mami, stop papi, there’s going to be an accident!” 

His father stilled for a moment, but he chuckled heartily, turning to mami. “We shouldn’t have let him watch so many scary movies, darling,” 

Mami started giggling too, reaching out for Lance, holding onto his outstretched hand. The touch was soft and soothing; it warmed Lance up from the inside. 

And then the car was hit from the side. And once again, Lance felt the pain, the scariness, the heartache of watching his... _Keith’s_ parents die. He knew then, sitting on the gurney as Doctor Morrisey asked him question upon question, and that sickly voice yelled in his ear, **_your fault, your fault, your fault,_** that when he reached out for his parents, when he moved his hands a certain way, when his fingers stretched and clenched forward, turning to the right, he’d be sitting back on his booster seat. 

**_Your fault._**

He had to stop his parents. He had to stop them from getting to that intersection. But every time he tried, every time he turned back time, every time he found himself back on his booster seat, looking up at the last moments of his... _Keith’s_ loving parents, he was getting more and more tired, his heart was cracking, breaking, shattering as he watched his...no Keith’s, these weren’t his...his parents die, again and again and again. 

**_Your fault._ **

**_Your fault._ **

He tried, god knew how many times he had tried, all sorts of things, pretending he had forgotten something in the cinema, needing to go to the bathroom, something, anything, but no, every time, they would pass the intersection and he would feel the car being hit twice, and then turning over. The cold and dead look of his parents, the warm hands of the firefighter as he dragged him out. 

**_Your fault._ **

**_Your fault._ **

**_Your fault._ **

He was numb, he couldn’t breathe. He was in shock, he was scared, and then, after trying again and again and again, he was…nothing… 

Darkness came to his almost too quickly as, for what seemed like the fiftieth time, he watched Keith’s parents die, the fiftieth time the firefighter dragged his out, the fiftieth time the doctor asked for his name. 

No matter what he tried; his parents would die. 

**IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!**

“What is your name?” Doctor Morrisey asked, apologising for the fiftieth time as he pressed too hard on a painful place on his side. “How old are you,” 

Just as numb as he felt, just as hard and hot as his mind had turned, he breathed out his reply for the fiftieth time. 

“My name is Keith, I am eight years old,” 

~~ 

Lance broke out of the dream with a jolt and a shudder. He felt like he had been stuck drowning underwater, finally able to break through the surface and breathe again. He bolted out of his sweat soaked bed, feet thudding harsh on the floor. He yanked his bedroom door open, not caring if he was making too much noise, or if his books and things were being jostled and falling from their places on the shelves. 

He didn’t care, he needed to go. He just needed to see. 

The hallway was empty, dark and silent. It was still the middle of the night after all. He quietly, yet quickly, made his way to the door at the end of the hall and pushed it open. Looking inside he saw his mami and papi sleeping soundly in their beds. 

He let out a breath in relief. 

It was just a dream, a recurring nightmare that came to him every once in a while. That dream had felt so real. He had vowed when he had first had the dream that if he ever met Keithy-cat, that he was going to bundle the little kid up into a hug and never let him go. That crash was not his fault, nothing was his fault. He was a good boy, a perfect boy. He was... 

“Mijo?” he heard his mami’s voice, laden with sleep, and he let out another breath of relief. It was one thing to see them, but to hear them was another thing entirely. His parents were okay, they hadn’t been in an accident and they were not dead. They were alive, and well, and here. 

“Are you okay, mijo?” his mami asked, getting up and holding her hand out to him. “Was it that dream again?” 

Lance nodded, padding into the room, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get any sleep until he knew his parents were both okay. So, he eagerly took the space is papi was providing, lifting up the covers, and slipped inside. 

“You wanna talk about it?” his papi asked. 

Lance shook his head, he did not want to relive that dream again, not when he didn’t have to. Instead, he fell into his mami’s arms, feeling them both a welcome weight around him, holding him close. 

They were here, safe and alive. 

But Keith’s parents weren’t. He didn’t even know who this Keith was, but he believed things happened for a reason. There was a reason he was seeing these dreams, there was a reason he was able to physically rewind time – only by a short fraction, and sometimes turning back time only worsened things. Certain things were set in stone, he had noticed – he knew Keith had something to do with it. 

So, he vowed to himself, and to Keith, that when he finally saw the boy, he was going to do everything in his power to make him happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (cries to herself...)  
> I am so sorry Krolia...Texas Kogane. I truly love you both.  
> I will avenge your deaths with the most beautiful one shot later.


	4. Sound

Tick...tick...tick...tick...

Keith was getting used to the sound of the clock on the wall. He had been coming to the therapists’ office for almost two whole months now, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, without fail – not that Miss Haggar would allow him to miss it. He knew she wanted him out as soon as possible. He was  _ passed the cute stage  _ after all. She had thought that constantly whenever she passed him, sneering at him and motioning for him to get out of her way, even when he was nowhere near her. No one would foster or adopt a  twelve year old after all. Miss Haggar had only there for the money and the fame for her foster house.

But honestly, deep inside him, though he would never say this out loud to Dr.  Wasti – Adam, Dr.  Wasti had asked Keith to call him Adam – he would say he preferred it here in the low humming quiet of the therapists’ office. The world outside was just so loud, like a constant buzzing that made his head ache and his stomach churn. He had taken to using one of the previous foster kids headphones and placing them over his ears. It was torn and worn, and there was plush coming out of one side. But it didn't matter, he never had any music to play, no devices to plug the jack into. The soft plush of the headphones over his ears worked well enough to quieten the world around him just a little bit, it didn't help fully but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in their mouth.  Even if wearing those heavy headphones always felt like his ears had cotton wool in them, and he could still hear the world just as clearly, just as loudly. The headphones helped...a little.

Adam was a nice change from the loudness of the world around him. His thoughts were calm and quiet, though they were always jumbled and a mess most of the times, but everyone thought like that. He was also extremely  _ nice,  _ and there was just something about him...in a weird way, he reminded Keith of his parents.

If he were to be honest with himself, he would say he preferred it here in the low hum quiet of the therapists’ office than back at the house. Miss Haggar house was loud with a lot of kids of all ages who demanded attention, throwing themselves at whoever visited, crying loudly, playing happily, screaming madly and enthusiastic about every little thing that passed them.

These were the ‘cute kids’, the ones who  _ acted  _ like the kinds of kids people wanted. Kids who would be adopted, kids who would be loved and cared for. Something that wouldn’t happen to him. He had closed himself off to ever looking for anyone else. He had only been eight when his parents had died, he could still remember the look on their bloodied and bruised faces, dead as he tried his hardest to get to them, to get them to wake up, to hold him tight, to be  _ alive.  _

He couldn't be a kid people wanted. Miss Haggar always said bad things about him, if anyone showed any interest in him. Sure, he sometimes had temper tantrums, and yes, he'd admit to having an attitude. But he didn’t have any of that bullshit the doctors came up with. It had only been four years since everything happened; he was still grieving sorely with the loss of both his parents. He didn’t think there would be a time when he closed his eyes and  _ didn’t  _ see their dead faces. So, he yelled when he was upset, or when he was mentally bullied or pitied by those around him, it was his only source of an outlet after all. No one else could understand what he was going through. 

So he'd lash out, he'd be snarky, get into fights and swear. He just wanted to go home, he didn't want to be here. He didn't ask for any of this. He hated that everyone blamed him for the death of his parents. Hell, he blamed himself. He wished it had been him instead of them every time he thought about them. It _should_ have been him.

Sure, there were  _ many  _ who were just like Keith, just as closed off, just as quiet, unless riled up, just going through the motions as they waited for someone to adopt them, or to be carted to the next foster house, or worse. But it was those kids that had the loudest thoughts. The ones who screamed in their minds, the ones who cried and sobbed in the middle of the night, when they thought no one was looking.

He wouldn’t say he was worse off than the others, many of the boys he shared a room with had such dark thoughts, scary nightmares that would wake them up, screaming and gasping for breath. But...at least they could get to sleep. He hadn't slept fully for four whole years now, and it was showing. He looked so much paler than his pictures, eyes so dark, sunken in and bloodshot from unshed tears. His body was so skinny, Adam had commented on it in his thoughts, ribs were showing, and he found it difficult to even muster moving, let alone doing something.

But he was here, he was trying. Though he still wished he had gone instead of them, hell, he wish he had gone _with them_ sometimes. He missed his father calling him Keithy-cat and lifting him high up in the air, his mother's voice soothing him when he was sick or sad or if he got hurt. 

No, he wasn't going to think about them right now. He wasn't going to cry in front of Adam.  He focused back to where he was. In the doctors office, for his current appointment. Adam said he had an activity for them today. 

The newtons cradle wasn’t in its place on the office table anymore, he noticed. Keith couldn’t even hear it either, so that meant it wasn’t here at all. That worried Keith a little. Why, he wasn’t sure, but he guessed he had gotten too used to listening to the melodic metronome and listening to the low timbred voice of a man who was actually listening to him.

Adam was standing by the large arch window to his left, doing  _ something  _ to the large flat filing cabinet pressed next to it. He had his hands up behind the curtains, body straining and fingers slipping between the space behind the filing cabinet and the wall.  His thoughts weren’t as informative to Keith either, Urdu mixed with English, jumbled and just expletives a majority of the time. He was looking for something, something that he had said was  _ imperative  _ to the day they were going to have. He just had to get it and  _ how did it even get back here? _

Keith held back a chuckle and stood up from the plush seat he had taken – the same one he sat in every time he came. He made his way over to Adam, watching the man struggle for a little while longer. He reached for the long curtains that were tangled around the doctor and held them up and away. Adam murmured a quick thanks, and reached as far behind the cupboard as he could.

“What are you doing?” Keith finally asked. 

Adam grinned, turning his attention to the young man. “He speaks!”

Keith rolled his eyes. Sure, he wasn’t as talkative as he could be, and it had been two months. When they had first started their sessions, he had been very tight lipped about everything in his life. But Adam never prodded, or poked, or asked for more. It was like he was waiting for Keith to start, when he was ready.

Keith didn’t think he was going to be ready to spill everything very soon. Maybe never. But it had been two months and Adam hadn’t changed the way he was. He hadn’t had any ill thoughts – not ones that scared Keith enough to want to leave – and he was still just so  _ kind. _ It was hard _not_ to trust him. He was just a overall nice guy. A big ball of sunshine.

It was weird, however, he wasn’t urging or asking Keith to meet Shiro, he hadn’t said a word after their first appointment, focusing instead on Keith and his situation, rather than comparing him to another person. But Adam’s thoughts were always filled with the man. Keith knew Shiro was a nice man, tall and scary looking, somewhat – Keith knew Shiro had lost his arm, had a few battle scars from being a soldier in the military, but Adam hadn’t ever thought about anything  _ bad.  _ Shiro seemed like a nice guy.

Keith didn’t think he was  _ ready _ , but he was eager to finally meet this man. To see what the fuss was about. Adam seemed so in love with him, and the secretary and other therapists he overhead whenever he passed by them and into Adam's office, all said the same thing. How nice Shiro was, how happy Adam was, how in love they both were. Shiro seemed like some kind of superhero. And Adam had said they were similar in many ways.

That couldn't be true. Keith was no hero.

“The weather is very nice outside,” Adam said suddenly, breaking Keith’s thoughts.  _ Nice enough for a picnic. _

Picnics...Keith remembered picnics. Him and his father finding the perfect spot underneath the blossom trees in the park, the patchwork of the blanket as their mother laid it on the plush grass. The basket with the gingham tea towel, and the snacks hidden inside. Sandwiches, his father made the  _ best  _ sandwiches. They’d share them, drink juice, eat whatever fruit was packed inside and enjoy the sunshine. Later,  Keith would run around, exploring the area, the small river behind them, and the bugs and butterflies everywhere, as his parents stayed with their things, talking and looking so in love. Murmuring and thinking such sweetened things for one another. 

When he was younger, Keith had wanted that. That warm feeling of love so insurmountable, so wonderful that it warmed the very bottom of his soul and brought it out, soaring into the skies.

But now...

“We should go outside,” Adam grinned, pulling his hand out from behind the filing cabinet, holding onto a folded piece of material. A blanket. “Soak in the sun, what do you think?”

Keith watched as Adam pushed open the window and held the blanket out, shaking the dust that had collected on the blanket from being behind the filing cabinet.

“You...want me to go outside?” Keith asked, his hands nervously fidgeting at the hem of his shirt. He was desperate to hold a hand to his ears at the thought of the loud voices outside – especially when he knew the office was  _ much  _ quieter. His grip itched at the broken headphones around his neck, ready to be put on at first notice.

Adam nodded, reaching out to place a supportive hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Don't worry, I have a plan for that,”  _ I did the same with Shiro, it should hopefully work with Keith... _

Keith seemed a bit bereft, but nodded. If it worked on Shiro, it should work on him, right? He knew it was stupid to try and compare himself to a person he had yet to meet. But Adam had told him – and thought to him – countless of times that he was positive his methods would work, as they had before.  If not, they could learn together.

**_Right. It's not going to work. Nothing ever will._ **

Adam ushered him back to his usual seat and took the seat opposite him. He fiddled around with something in his top drawer, before pulling a small black box out and placing it on the table. Keith was intrigued, the box was very small, smaller than his palm, and smooth looking. There was a small button at the very middle of the box.

Adam nudged it closer to him, and urged for him to open it.  _ Oh, he’s going to be so surprised! I can’t wait for him to try it! _

Well, that wasn’t helpful. He gingerly reached for the box, fingers grasping at the curved edges and smooth lines. He lifted it up, it was a pleasantly light weight, and found a latch at one side. It clicked open, and the lid popped up. Opening it, he looked inside and ...was just as confused. Inside was the same plastic like material the box was made out of, except there were two hot rod red dots – for what else could they be? -- sitting neatly inside, in their own little spaces carved into the box.

“What the heck is this?” he asked, reaching for one of the red dots and holding it up. He felt a little resistance, they were stuck to the box with magnets or something. The space where the dot had been had three silver prongs coming out of it. A charging  station ?

“Wireless earphones,” Adam said to him, as if there was no way the item in his hand could be anything but that.

Keith raised an eyebrow. The red dot was smaller than the tip of his finger, there was no way this thing was an earphone. Unless it was a part of something much bigger. For one thing, how did this thing even fit? Wouldn’t it just fall out?

“Alright, sceptic,” Adam said with a grin, taking the box from Keith and opening it himself. “You willing to at least try it?”

Adam hadn’t really done anything yet for Keith to not trust him. His thoughts were filled with nothing but hope, and that weird experimental glee certain people – including himself – got when he wanted to see just how something worked. 

“How is this going to help me with...you know what?” he asked, waving his hand at the box.

Adam got up from his seat, rounding the table and leaning back on it in front of Keith. He took the red dots and held them up. “Okay, so...from what I can tell, the voices you are hearing are other peoples’ thoughts, right?” -- Keith nodded -- “they are essentially coming from outside source, not from within your own head.”

Keith narrowed his gaze, watching the doctors’ hands and the stark red dot in his palm. “How can you be so sure about that?”

Adam shrugged his shoulders. “I can't, but I bet you’re willing to experiment?”

Well, he was good. Keith wasn’t going to lie. He really was interested in seeing how this contraption worked. And if it did help him by quietening the loudness of other  people's voices, then he was going to at least try. It was testament to just how close he had gotten to this trusting and kind doctor so quickly. If it were anyone else, he’d still be the same silent child he had been two months ago. But there was just something  _ about _ Adam that set his nerves from a roaring flame to a nice simmer. It also helped that he was so  _ quiet. _

“Okay, so before we get started,” Adam stated, seeing the approval to continue from Keith. “I’m going to  _ increase  _ the volume of my thoughts,”  _ I’m just going to start thinking really loudly. _

Wow, okay, Keith most definitely didn’t expect the loudness of his thoughts. He had grown so complacent to Adam’s quietness, even in his thoughts, that he almost flinched. He hadn’t been prepared for it.

“You heard that, yeah?” He asked. Keith nodded. He knew Adam had learned to quieten his thoughts and the way he was when he was around Shiro. The older man had a tendency to freak out when there were loud noises, especially with his  _ mind thing  _ as Adam called it. Their relationship really gave Keith hope for one of his own. If only he could find someone as quiet and calm as Adam for himself. He’d be so happy.

“Alright, now lets’ put these babies in,” Adam reached for his chin, tilting his head one way. “Before I do anything, I just have to give the usual disclaimer again. You’re not allergic to anything?”

“M. ..milk ? I’m lactose intolerant,” Keith answered, for the nth time since they had started these sessions. Whenever Adam gave him something new to do, hold or try, he always went through the same questions. “But you know that,”

“It’s something I have to do, Keith!” Adam gasped dramatically. “The walls could be listening!”

God, he hoped not. He didn’t want to be sent to the hospital with the padded walls with the little amount he had told Adam, and he’d be damned if he ever got Adam into trouble.

With a bright smile, Adam leaned in and placed the red dots in either of his ears. There was a small humming sound before it was all silent. There was a weird sensation of  _ something  _ in his ear, but that could be easily forgotten. It was like when he would wear glasses sometimes, he’d stop noticing they were there pretty quickly.  Adam reached back for a mirror and held it up to his face. Keith tilted his head from left to right, but he couldn’t even  _ see  _ the red earphones. Peering in closer, he noticed a small bump in inner lobe, just by the curve. But it was flesh coloured. 

“Latest grafting and blending technology,” Adam said smugly. “I had one of my engineer friends help me with it, you can barely see them.”

Keith held the mirror closer to his ear, Adam was right. He couldn’t see anything other than his ear. But it still stood to question, would this thing actually work?

“You ready to try it out?” he asked, hopping up on the desk and placing his hands on his thighs. He leaned forward and smiled eagerly. He was like a child sometimes.

Keith held back a chuckle, and nodded.

“Okay, I’m going to think something loudly,” he stated. “Like, really scream it out loud, you tell me if you can hear it,”

Keith nodded. He waited, bracing himself for the loud sounds he was going to hear. But he didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. Adam’s voice was a little bit higher than the low timbre and intensity it always had been. Like he was standing a few feet away, rather than talking directly to him.

“You like coffee?” he asked, holding a hand to his ear. Maybe Adam hadn’t yelled it as loud as he could, or maybe the thing was broken.

“How loud was that?” Adam asked, his eyes wide and shining. 

Keith shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe a little bit louder than usual,”

The doctor suddenly stood up, whooping and throwing a fist in the air. He reached for Keith and dragged him up from the seat, spinning him around in small circles before placing him back on the ground. Keith gasped, but let the man do what he needed to do.

“Alright! That was phase one,” Adam said with a grin. He reached for the blanket, and held it in his hand, “Now, how about that picnic?”


	5. Picnic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eid Mubarak to everyone celebrating today!  
> I hope you have a happy, wealthy and prosperous year!  
> I thought I'd get this out before the festivities began. Sorry its shorter than I wanted it to be.

Keith’s father had always told him; when life gives you lemons, be thankful for them and turn them into lemonade. His mother would tell him to hold a fist to life and demand for the water and sugar alongside the lemons. 

He had tried, he really did. He had done his best to not let the darkness get to him, he did everything not to let the demons take over. He tried his hardest to keep the hope his parents had given him, dwelling in only the good, and not their faces when... 

Stand tall, don’t let the world get you down. Raise your head high and tackle everything head on. And if that failed. Don’t give up. 

His parents’ words were the only solace he had at this moment, the only thing that made sense as he gripped at the back of Adam’s jacket and followed him as he took them both to the park a few streets down from the therapists’ office. He had told Keith, with no uncertainty, that the office’s courtyard was a pile of crap, and it boasted no wildlife or freedom, just some dying plants and clean and neat paths. 

Keith had never ventured into the park for the past four years, in fact he hadn’t been _anywhere_ that hadn’t been Miss Hagger's house, the hospital and the therapists’ office. So, taking in the scents and sounds around him was a bit too intense for him. His grip tightened on Adam’s jacket, body hidden behind him, yet he peered his head through the small space between Adam’s waist and his arm, that was holding onto a small picnic basket. 

He had no idea where or how Adam had procured a picnic basket, he had tried peering in through the gingham blanket laid inside, but it covered everything that was inside. Keith was positive he heard something tin like clink inside, but even that he couldn’t be too sure about. 

They stepped into the large park, seeing it was absolutely teeming with people of all ages, kids playing in the swings and playground on one side, families sitting on the grass, enjoying the sun, friends laughing along as they sat in the chairs. There were teenagers on skateboards, and some on bikes, people running and meandering through the broken and used cobblestone path ways. There was even a man cutting grass with an industrial grass mower a few ways away from everyone. 

“How you holding up?” Adam asked, taking sure and steady steps into the park life. 

Keith shrugged his shoulders. He had always steered far from public places whenever he did get the chance to go outside – which wasn’t much – just a normal street sounded like a concert of voices. But with the earphones in his ear, the sound he had expected was a low thrum. He could still hear everyone and everything, but at least this time he didn’t feel like his head was splitting in two. 

Adam paused, gazing down to where he could see Keith peeking his head through. “You want to head back?” 

Keith looked up at him then, he would have loved to do just that. But the way Adam looked, though his face was warm and caring, as were his thoughts, there was a small thought of guilt, of sadness. It had gone as soon as it had come, but Keith still felt it. 

And it had hurt. It had felt like a dark spot obscuring the beauty of sunshine. Adam was trying his hardest. Keith wasn’t feeling _all_ too bad. Gazing up to the sweet melody of the breeze through the trees, the sounds of birds were louder than usual here, a cacophony of sounds. The sun was beaming and warm, the shade of the tall trees cool. 

The people still scared him though. 

“I...” He paused, taking in a breath. He could do this. For Adam. “I want to try, can I?” 

“Oh Keith,” Adam swooped around almost immediately, Keith lost his solace hold on his jacket, but it was replaced by Adam taking a hold of his arms and holding him steady. “Thank you for trying. I know this is new and scary. But don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to help you. If you feel uncomfortable, you just say the word and we’re gone,” 

Keith nodded, not sure how he was able to put his trust in Adam so quickly, when it had taken him four whole years to even listen to what the house mother would tell him. Hell, he still wasn’t friends with his house mates. No one ever listened to him anyway, and they all didn’t care. So why should he? 

“Alright, I know the best spot to have our picnic,” 

Adam seemed so excited as he took Keith’s arm and ushered him deeper into the park. They stopped at a more secluded part, just under the shade of a large and wide oak tree. There was a small river next to them, fenced away and hidden behind a few bushes. It looked peaceful. 

He helped Adam pull out the blanket from the basket and lay it flat on the grassy ground, making sure each corner was straight. He could hear Adam’s internal monologue about whether or not Keith would like the food he made, and if there were any allergies he may have missed or not known of. 

Keith didn’t know why, but he had an urge to hold a hand to Adam’s shoulder and tell him to calm down, everything was going to be okay. But he, of course, did no such thing. Instead, he focused on placing the basket in the middle and taking his shoes off – following Adam who had taken his own shoes off and had placed them on the grass next to the blanket. 

“Alright, I’m starving,” He opened the basket, reaching in, and pulled out a couple of plastic boxes. Even with the items themselves in front of him, Keith still had no idea what half of those things were. One _looked_ like a sandwich, and another looked like a pastry. 

Adam, noticing his curiosity, snapped open one, inside was small, flat circles, kind of like beef patties, except they were a whitish brown colour, and looked to be made of potato, rather than meat, it also had other ingredients in it, like chopped tomatoes and mint and coriander. 

He watched as Adam held it out for Keith. “This is aloo tikki , it's made out of potatoes and spices,” 

Keith was tentative, but reached for the food. Adam handed him a small paper plate and something that looked like a sort of green sauce and told him it was something that would complement the aloo tikki . Keith nodded, taking a piece of the tikki and dipped it in the sauce. Taking a bite, he braced himself against the spiced potatoes and tomatoes, and onions and god only knew what else made it taste so good! He took another bite, and then another, and soon the tikki was all gone from his plate. 

“Good?” he asked, Keith nodded, mouth full. _He’s so adorable, I’m so glad!_

Keith’s cheeks burst a bright red at the complement, he swallowed his food and looked away. The food really was tasty, so much different to the food he was used to eating at the House. You could only live off mac and cheese and mashed potatoes for so long. He was happy to see there were so many things you could do with food, provided you knew how to do it. He was kind of interested to learn how to do it. 

“Did you make these yourself?” 

“Yup,” Adam nodded, seeing a familiar glint in Keith’s eyes. “It’s not that hard, if you’re interested in learning,” 

It was like Adam could read right through him! 

Adam was grinning wide, his smile pretty and his glasses glinting in the sunlight. He handed Keith a can of pop. Keith thanked him and took the drink, cracking it open and taking a sip, though his gaze was focused on the rest of the food on the blanket. “There’s some channa chaat , and some samosa's too, if you’re interested in trying them,” 

Keith eagerly reached for the food, seeing what looked like a salad with chickpeas and yoghurt in them, and the pastries he had noticed before. The samosas were filled with potatoes, and peas and carrots, and some spices. It was a little spicier than Keith was used to, but not enough to deter him. The channa chaat had a refreshing, yet tangy taste to it, and it too was finished up very quickly. 

“Now, for the dessert!” Adam stated, putting his own plate down on the blanket, and reaching for a small box cooler within the basket, where he had taken the drinks out from. Inside was another small plastic box, that had little dark brown balls inside a lighter brown syrup. “Rusgullas,” 

Keith nodded, eager to continue with the food. He had a bit of a sweet tooth, that wasn’t a secret. Though he preferred keeping it that. He always hoarded away any form of chocolate he could find, or was given to him, from his parents. But it had been a very long time since he last had anything sweet. Miss Haggar wasn’t really the generous type. 

Adam opened the container, and a sweet scent wafted into the air. There were six oval shaped balls inside the container, half submerged in the thick looking syrup. Adam handed Keith a toothpick – ‘so we don’t get the sticky syrup everywhere’ – and used his own toothpick to cut through one of the balls. Keith had expected the inside to be just as dark as the outside, but it was surprisingly a lighter brown, almost white colour on the inside. 

Urged by Adam, Keith stuck his toothpick into one of the smaller cut pieces, surprised to see his toothpick went in easy. He held it up and grinned as the syrup dripped down into the container. He watched as Adam quickly put it into his mouth, enthusiastically smiling at the taste. Eager to feel the same way, Keith ate the small piece. The sweet flavour burst into his mouth and his eyes widened. It was so good. Kind of like a wet cake like texture and juice bursting into his mouth. 

He’d found his new craving. And it was rusgullas . 

_‘He hasn’t complained or looked anxious yet, so maybe this is working.’_

Keith let out a breath. Adam was right. He hadn’t really been focusing on the sounds and sights around him, too busy enjoying the food. The sounds were quieter than he was used to hearing, like a low hum in the background. He could tune them out – though not by much, it still felt like he was in a crowded subway, listening to everyone talking, but at least they were _yelling_ anymore. And Keith was glad for that right now. 

Maybe the earphones were working. 

But that was when everything went pear shaped. Chewing on another piece of the rusgulla , he noticed the world had suddenly gone quiet, _too quiet._ Opening his eyes, he noticed, to his shock, that everything had stopped. The people who had been walking, were standing still, like statues, the bees and bugs were mid flight in the air around him, and Adam. Oh god, Adam was just sitting there, leaning back on his arms and letting the sun soak in his skin. 

What was happen—wait, he tried to move, but found he couldn’t. His body was still, hand poised for the next bit of food. His wasn’t able to move any part of him, not even his eyes. For a moment, he had thought he had died. But that was when he heard the sweetest, and loudest, sound ever. 

_‘Again! No puedo creer esto! This was a new shirt!’ _

That voice. He recognised it, but he didn’t know from where. Like it was from a dream, or from a distant memory. He saw something move in the corner of his eye, and he wished he could look around to see who it was. It was a male voice, sounding Spanish, maybe? He wasn’t sure, but the accent was definitely something else. 

And just as quickly, everything around Keith started to move. 

“Now, for the dessert!” Adam suddenly said, sitting up right, instead of laid back as he had been before. He had put his plate down on the blanket and Keith watched – more confused now than ever – as he took the plastic container with the rusgullas out of the cooler and held it in his hands. “Rusgullas!” 

Keith watched, confused, as Adam handed him a toothpick and cut through one of the pieces, waiting for him to eat it. Keith paused, reaching for it and taking a bite, watching as Adam gave him a look, hoping he liked it. 

Hadn’t this...happened before? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No puedo creer esto! - I can't believe this!
> 
> What is happening?  
> Who's voice was that?  
> Why did the world stop?
> 
> Can you tell I'm hungry?


	6. First Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one for the day. Sorry guys!  
> I'll be writing a longer one tomorrow (I hope).

Love comes when you least expect it. 

At least that was what Lance liked to believe. Everything happened for a reason. Like karma and its domino-effect of reactions -- like that butterfly ripple effect that Pidge always went on about. It was what got him his powers four years ago. After constantly having the terrifying dreams he had of his Keithy-cat had led him to being able to manipulate time. Not everything was set it stone, he could maneuver certain things in a way that would benefit him. But other things -- such as the lottery numbers and winnings, trust him, he had tried -- would not work out for him. But he still believed whatever was going to happen to him today was going to be good for him. He had to think positively, after all.

"Lance, _mijo!"_

Lance looked up from his phone to his mother calling his name from the front door of his house. He took the bottle of water and lunch bag she was holding in her hands, and stuffed them into his school backpack. He gave his mother a devastating smile, hoping it was apology enough for her to let his memory lapse go for a moment. 

“Don’t forget your drink, mijo,” she said, holding a thermos of warm tea he always had in the morning to him. He took it, kissing his mother on the cheek, and turned back to the gate of his house. 

“I’ll see you later, mami!”

He should have known his tea would have been the culprit of his first meeting with Keith. But he didn't know that quite just yet. It had started like an ordinary, normal, average, boring day, making his way to school. And much like every morning, he was blindly going through his phone, checking his emails to make sure he hadn’t missed something important for the day ahead. 

His father had taken his own car, and his sister Veronica had taken the only other car, for early classes, leaving him stranded at home, all alone. It was the only reason he had to walk to school that morning. Not that he minded, but it did mean he had to get up a little earlier and go through the plaza on his way to school. He always got distracted by the new pop up stores and sellers around the plaza. And he really didn’t want to bother his friend's family. Hunk may live next door to him, but there wasn’t a car there. He must have left early that morning as well. 

And anyway, he could walk to school. It wasn’t that big of a deal. He'd just have to keep his focus on getting to school and not stopping to look at everything around him. That sounded easy enough. He made his way down the streets to the intersection. Checking the time, he noticed he still had about ten minutes to get to school, which was on the other side of the plaza. If he wanted to get there on time, he’d have to go through the park. Quickly. With a steaming cup of tea. With people everywhere. He was going to have to be extra careful. _Eh._ That wasn’t a problem for him at all. 

_You can do this McClain, your_ _Keithy_ _-cat gave you these powers for a reason._

Looking both ways on the road, he made a dash for it through the park entrance and into the park itself. If he continued this pace, he'd be making good time. He wasn't in the mood to listen to Pidge yell at him for being late again. Dashing passed people while keeping the hot tea in his thermal cup, he congratulated himself. No spills yet. Things were looking good. 

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he sidestepped around a running school girl, grinning when she looked back at him. Throwing up finger guns at her, he saw her give him an exasperated look but that didn’t deter him in the least. He wasn’t really looking for a love connection with some random person on the street after all. He wanted something more solid, more real. She wasn’t even wearing the same school uniform as him, which would make everything that much harder. 

But it didn’t mean he couldn’t flirt around; he was single and ready to mingle. For the right person. But that was neither here nor there. Looking down to his watch, he noticed he still had a little time to get to school. He wished he could have had someone drive him there, maybe even his older brother, but it wasn’t like it was his fault Marco’s car had careened into the sign post, neither had it been his fault that the awful brunette hag that had come out of the car to yell at his brother and his driving – which, wasn’t Marco’s fault, that woman had crashed into _them –_ while she was going faster. What could be so important to go twelve miles over the speed limit? 

Honestly, he had wanted to get out of the car and back his brother up, but what could a twelve year old do? But because of that Marco had no car, which meant Veronica had to drive him to work, and then herself to her classes. 

He ran his fingers through his short hair, fixing the tips over his forehead, and sighed. He looked up and saw the park was teeming with the morning commute. But that was when it happened. 

Love always came at the most unexpected times. 

He had caught glimpse of the gorgeous boy before it happened. _Wow._ He had almost salivated at the quick sight of the hotties large frame, his strong shoulders and dark eyes on a strong looking, yet chubby with baby fat jaw – _Maravilloso_...

But of course life reared its ugly head and acted like the utter quiznak it was when it came to this kind of thing in his life. He didn’t notice the older man who was actually about to bump into him. Like slow motion, Lance watched as the crowd around him increased and an older man bumped into him. He shrieked when the man’s coffee fell all over his front and sleeve. 

Lance was a good man, or at least he believed he was. He kept his thoughts to himself and he was always polite, even when the other person was an absolute douche bag. So, it was easy to look up at the man and feel bad when he saw them flood over with worry. But then he felt the pain of the burn, and thought the man could go fuck itself.

_‘Again! No puedo creer esto! This was a new shirt!’ _

The coffee was a burn he could get over, it came, it burned, and then it went away just as quickly, leaving a dull, throbbing ache. But his phone was fritzing in his hand, and his uniform was wet. Which annoyed him more than the thought of the burn.

With a growl, he twisted his fingers in a familiar way and the world around him slowed down to a complete stop. He always was amazed at the sight of the world physically slowing down around him, how the sound would dissipate until there was nothing but solaced silence, like a gramophone being turned off while the song was still playing. When he was sure everything had settled and stopped moving, and that there were no eyes staring directly at him, he placed his tea thermos down and rolled his eyes. This was his uniform! It wasn’t like he could just change into anything else. He had customised his outfit to fit his personality perfectly. There were badges and patches and the inseam was a sea blue – his favourite colour – and his tie was bedazzled – courtesy of his friends Allura and Romelle. 

God damn, that shit was hot. He got out a handkerchief and dabbed at his clothes, hoping they would help with the the stain that was sure to set, but other than his handkerchief soaking up the wet, it wasn’t doing much. He focused on the area around him instead. With time stopped, he had a moment to actually look around and take his time when doing so. There wasn’t really any source of water that was free for him to use. The water fountain was being used, and Lance wasn’t ever sure if he could _move_ people when they were like this. He didn’t know if it would hurt them, or him, or if they would wake up and freak out with everything stopped around them. 

With a sigh, he shrugged off his bag and got his water bottle out, wetting the cleaner part of the handkerchief, he started to dab away at the stain, hoping the water would do something. But other than a good few minutes in the washer, he wasn't sure it was going to work. Damn. He was going to have to turn back time. But that always took a lot out of him, and he was not in the mood to get to school looking tired. He knew what he had to do. But before he did that, maybe he could try to clean his clothes in the river instead? It sounded so archaic, but if it worked back then, maybe it could work now? 

It was worth a shot, right? 

He really didn’t want to turn back time right now. He needed to get to school, he had a big study session with his friends tonight, and he needed to be awake enough to stay alert until then. It wouldn’t do any good if he didn’t study, and if he didn’t study, then he’d not do well on his test, and if he didn’t do well on his test, then that asshole Iverson would have yet another reason to piss him off. He took in a breath, there was no need to get so worked up about it now.

Crap. He was going to have to, wasn’t he? 

Taking one more look around, he held his hand up ready to revert the time to before this quiznak had dropped hot coffee all over him. But he paused. Well. Since, time was stopped right now, maybe he could take a closer look at the hottie who started this mess. 

Looking to the trees by the river, his gaze landed immediately on the pretty boy. He was just sitting there reaching out for something another older man was holding out to him. Dark, dishevelled hair – a _mullet? In this day and age? --_ and such a pretty smile. His clothes looked a little big on him, and he was wearing short, fingerless gloves. It was a strange choice, that was for sure. He looked like a badly dressed biker or something. Those clothes were definitely not his own.

He felt...familiar. But Lance couldn’t remember from where. But he knew he had to get a closer look. He was slow to move, but he made his way through the many people until he was standing in front of the two. 

It was only when he got closer, and paid more attention to the man he was sitting with that he recognised his teachers’ fiancé. He had seen this man’s face on the pictures on Mr. Shirogane’s desk. He knew Mr. Shirogane’s fiancé was a doctor or something. 

Did that mean this cutie with a mullet was sick or something? 

Lance felt his heart falter at the thought. The boy looked so weary and tired, now that Lance got a good look at him. His pale skin was...a little too pale and sickly looking, his pretty purple grey eyes were sunken in, the skin around them bruised black with lack of sleep. His hair was an odd shade of black and purple and tied back in a long pony tail – but it _worked_ on him. He looked frail, smaller so in those too large clothes. 

Maybe he could ask Mr. Shirogane about this boy, maybe he’d know who his fiancé was currently with. Because Lance would really like to know more about this boy. Which was strange for him. He hadn't ever been so enamoured with anyone so quickly. Sure, he'd look at pictures of celebrities and crush on them. But this boy, he...he looked to be about the same age as Lance, and yet, he was here, smiling so brightly, yet looking so sickly.

Mr. Wasti could tell him, right? He'd just have to find a way to figure it out and talk to him. Right? Could he even divulge such information? Lance didn’t know why he wanted to go through such lengths to see and speak to this boy and know more about him. Maybe it was because this boy was so small looking, so frail and tired, was it because he was so pretty and Lance had been smitten at first sight? Maybe it was because he felt so familiar, and Lance had this urgent need to just hold him close and hug him tight and never let him go.

There was something about this boy. And he was going to find out. 


	7. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Lance's first meeting with Keith.
> 
> EDIT.  
> Sorry, I had thought I had posted everything, but my phone did not like me and cut out a good 700 words at the end of the chapter.  
> My bad, its all here now!

You’d think being able to manipulate and control time itself, Lance would somehow make it to classes on time, hell even early. 

The Garrison Academy’s courtyard was completely empty as the morning sun rose brightly in the skies. The birds sang, the breeze rustled the trees and Lance was, yet again, running along the cobblestone and tile floor at an increasingly fast pace. 

“Stop! Hold it right there, cadet!” 

Lance didn’t stop, he rushed pass the many people – students and teachers alike – cheering him on as he made his way through the school and to his class. Iverson couldn’t say anything to him as long as he made it to his class. And that was his goal, like every morning. 

“Cadet McClain!” 

Nope, there was no way he’d stop. He looked back to the older man following closely behind him, in his hand was a ruler – of all things – as he waved it about menacingly. Not as long as Iverson was waving that thing around, Lance was not going to stop. 

“Today is the day I catch you!” Iverson yelled, trailing behind the Cuban as Lance pelted down the hallways, like a bat out of a cage. “You know lateness is a blatant violation of your attendance! You _will_ be penalised” 

“I’m no late yet!” Lance replied, rounding the large fountain in the middle courtyard of the large school, the one that had the statues of the founders of the garrison. “Not until the professor says so!” 

Lance dodged expertly passed a few teachers, grinning when he was finally in the same hallway as his first class. Giving a brisker pace along the squeaking tiles. He knew he could have been a lot faster if he hadn’t stopped and reversed time that morning, but being able to see that beautiful boy had been worth it. He’d take on any punishment Iverson threw at him if it got him a chance to see the boy again, to talk to him. 

Iverson screeched, waving the ruler above his head. “You’re not getting away!” 

Adrenaline kicking in, he quickened his pace. He could see his fellow friends and classmates encouraging him through the doors and windows of the classrooms. You can do it, just a little more, you’re almost there! 

“Good luck!” 

“Iverson is eating your dust!” 

Lance smiled, spotting his friends. Out of breath, he reached the classroom and yanked the door open. He slinked in with a smile, seeing the teacher give him an exasperated look before continuing with her work. /he settled into his usual seat between his two best friends, trying to catch his breath. Iverson couldn’t do anything now. 

Pidge slapped him across his back, large circle glasses glinting and their smirk wide. “Another morning, another close call,” 

“Chalk up another win for McClain!” A blonde student yelled from the front of the full class, interrupting the session as it was beginning. 

“We can always count on McClain for one hell of a morning race,” another student yelled, the class laughing along with him, congratulating him for beating Iverson yet again. Lance sucked in a deep breath and smiled brightly; glad he was finally in class so he could rest. He wouldn’t have had to run that fast if he wasn’t being chased like that. 

“You’re really cutting it close, Cadet McClain,” His teacher stated. He knew his teachers would always have his back against Iverson, he was a good student, always top of his class and attentive. They didn’t care if he was a few minutes late. 

Iverson was just a douche bag. 

It wasn’t like he was late on purpose, he told himself. He had witnessed something ethereal after all. He couldn’t get that boys smiling face from his mind. And he still didn’t know why he felt so familiar. There was just something about him that called to Lance, like a siren’s song, telling him to get closer, go deeper, drown in the feeling, suffocate in it. 

Just looking into those oddly beautiful eyes had made him feel at peace. 

Strange. 

“Earth to Lance!” Pidge’s voice growled next to him, he looked down to her, startled out of his day dreams. Darting around, he noticed everyone was splitting up and working on whatever activity it was the teacher had told them to do. 

“Sorry,” 

Hunk, the large Samoan, checked his shoulder, calling his attention. “What’s on your mind?” 

Lance shrugged his shoulders, pulling out his things and reading the board for the activity they were supposed to be doing. “I... well, I think I met someone,” he murmured, tapping his pen against his paper, head resting on his hand, thoughts returning to the boy. 

“How do you _think_ you met someone?” Pidge asked, poking him on his shoulder with the end of her pencil. He slapped her hand away, rubbing at the spot. 

Lance shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno, I saw him when I was going through the park and...I don't know...it just... _happened_ ,” 

“Oh, I know that face,” Hunk stated teasingly, his eyes wide and his mouth opened in a smirk. “It’s your ‘I think I’m in love’ face.” 

“What?” Lance shook his head, incredulously. “No face, I’m not making a face,” 

Hunk raised an eyebrow. “You got that same look on your face when you first saw Allura,” 

“Yeah, but...Allura’s a friend,” he stated calmly, remembering the first time had had seen the pure beauty that was his upper classmate. He had been smitten by her – along with like everyone else in the whole school – but as he got to know her, he found she was an awesome woman, a little weird and foreign, but she was still a cool friend. “And dude, she’s like taken. I love Romelle, I’d never do that to either of them,” 

“True,” Hunk nodded, the relationship between the two was rather infamous around the school. It kind of had to be when you had two beautiful and popular girls dating. “But you still have that face! So, tell me, what happened? Did you talk to him? Did you get his number?” 

Now, Hunk and Pidge didn’t know about his...stopping time thing. It wasn’t like he wanted to keep it a secret, he just wasn’t sure he should. He trusted his friends, but like, there was a reason why superheroes kept their secrets hidden. He didn’t want them to get in trouble because of him. So, he kept it under wraps, for now. 

“I kind of...” Lance scratched the back of his head. “I saw him with Dr. Wasti...I think they were in a session or something? I didn’t want to interrupt, but Hunk...man...he’s so beautiful,” Pidge mock gagged behind him. “Like ohmigod, I think I saw flowers and stars and all that shit when I saw him,” 

“OH!” Hunk cried, reaching out and hugging Lance close to him. “Lance is in love!” 

“I’m not...it’s not love!” Lance replied, voice muffled by Hunk’s wide chest. “I don’t even know his name, I got to ask Prof. Shirogane about that,”

“What’s Prof. Shiro got to do with this?” Pidge asked, showing some interest in Lance’s lacklustre love life – which was new, she never showed interest in anything, if he were being honest. 

Hunk tugged the two closer together, talking in a hushed voice. “He and Mr. Wasti are like totally a thing, remember?” Pidge rolled her eyes, but nodded. “We can try to catch him during break, but will he tell you about Dr. Wasti’s new patient?” 

“I don’t think even _he_ knows about Dr. Wasti’s new patient,” Pidge retorted, clucking her tongue and leaning away. She straightened out her skewed frames as she did so. 

Lance’s face fell. He knew his assumptions had been right. But he was really interested to know more about the boy. Maybe Prof. Shiro wouldn’t know anything. Doctors kept everything quiet after all, the whole patient-doctor confidentiality and that. 

Hunk patted him on his back, hoping to stop his sad thoughts. “What’s the harm in asking, huh?” 

Yeah. Hunk was right. And if Prof. Shiro couldn’t help, maybe he could ask to speak with Mr. Wasti? He knew he was grasping at straws, but his heart was aching at the thought of not being able to see the boy again. 

He had spent too long a time just watching him before. He needed to know more. 

“Alright, that settles it then. We’ll talk to Prof. Shiro after classes,” Hunk stated, getting back to the work they were supposed to be doing. 

Lance nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest. He had such amazing friends. They didn’t have to do this, but they were, and that made him so happy. With that resolution, he got to work. 

He’d see that boy again, he was sure of it. 

Professor Takeshi Shirogane was like...a lot larger than Lance had ever thought he’d be. 

His shoulders were so wide, his chest strong, and he was tall. He was hot, with that scar running along the bridge of his nose, and he had a smile that could level even the most stoic of people. One of his arms was a prosthetic, a sleek silvery white metal that sometimes glinted a little too brightly in the warm rays of the sun. But that seemed to only add to the hotness meter of the man. 

He was also the nicest guy anyone had the pleasure of meeting. Lance had only had one class with Shiro, and that was always in a lecture hall, so he never really got any one on one time with him. He had never seen him so close. 

“How can I help you, cadet?” Shiro’s eyebrow was raised. 

“Uh...” Lance replied intelligently. He had spent the better half of the day trying to come up with a way to get the man to tell him about Dr. Wasti’s new patient, but everything had sounded so dumb coming from his mouth. 

Shiro’s eyes widened a little, but he nodded anyway. “Is there something any of you want to ask me?” 

Pidge answered for them, cutting straight to the point. “You’re dating Dr. Wasti, right?” 

Shiro, surprisingly, didn’t look at all surprised. Shouldn’t he be like...worried or something, that he was found out to be dating someone? Then again, should that be something to worry about? He may be a teacher, but he was still human. He could date whoever the fuck he wanted. 

“Yes,” he replied calmly, raising an eyebrow at the three, but his focus narrowed at Lance. The Cuban sucked in a breath at that look, feeling like Shiro could see right through him, through all of his hopes and dreams, his insecurities, everything laid out in the open for the man to peruse at his leisure. “But that isn’t the question you wanted to ask,” 

Lance sucked in a brave breath, getting support from his friends. “I want to know more about one of Dr. Wasti’s patients,” 

Shiro sat back on his seat, giving Lance that intense look again. It felt like a hand was crawling up his spine, across his shoulders and up his neck. Lance shuddered at the feeling. It was a cool feeling, making goose bumps appear on his skin. 

He knew this wasn’t going to work. It was so stupid, after all. Of course, he wasn’t going to find out anything. Who even does something like that? 

“Sure, you can speak with Adam,” Shiro replied, leaning forward and giving a small smile. He looked at the others, gaze narrowing at Pidge, and then to Hunk, and then back to Lance. “But only you,” 

Lance nodded, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. He was going to meet Dr. Wasti, and maybe find out more about the boy. He was so excited! How had this even happened? 

Shiro, for all of his wonder and greatness – as told by his students and boyfriend – was a bit of an idiot when it came to matters of the heart. 

How he was able to get someone as beautiful and wonderful as Adam  Wasti to not only talk to him, but to also fall in love with him and his weirdness, his odd senses – or superpowers as Adam constantly told him,  _ it’s a gift, my star, not a curse –  _ and disabled body – another thing Adam would chastise him on, telling him that he was not disabled, he was perfectly able (and then he’d have that pretty blush on his cheeks, and Shiro would know exactly what he meant by that).

It was still confusing to him now, and they had been together for almost ten whole years – yes Shiro was thinking of  _ locking it down,  _ as Adam’s mother would constantly think to him every time they visited. He just wanted it to be special. He had shown Aisha  Wasti the ring he had picked out, and she had been so happy, she had stopped tormenting him with when he was going to propose to Adam, but was now instead thinking about wedding ideas.

What was he saying?

Ah yes, Shiro sucked at love.

He adored Adam, loved him with his very being, with the very essence of him. He’d fly to the stars and capture each and every one of them, if only to see them make his hazel eyes shine that pretty shine when he was happy. He wouldn’t give his love up for anything. 

So, he definitely understood the look on Lance’s face when he had first come into his office that afternoon. That boy was gone for.

At first, when Shiro had sifted through the three students’ minds, thinking they were coming to his office to either ask him a question or confess to having done something wrong that would have affected him, he had let out an internal scream of aggravation. He wasn't in the mood. But when he saw the  tell tale thought of Adam in the park in one of their minds, he had been on alert.

A moment of worry that his student had done something to his love, or worse, fallen for him, had made his blood run cold. He wasn’t going to lose Adam to anything. So, he probed a little more – normally he wouldn’t, but he  _ had  _ to after that.

It hadn’t been Adam the young one was interested, dare he say infatuated, with. It had been the other person with Adam, a boy closer to the students ages. He also – mind you, again, he wasn’t prying – had seen that the boy had  _ stopped time  _ in order to get a closer look.

That, in and of itself, wasn’t new to him, if he could read peoples thoughts and feelings, _of course_ there were other powers out there. Heck, his best friend Matt had one of his own. He had found that out accidentally when he walked in on the man in the shower one day and found that he could control water – or something like that, he didn’t exactly take into account anything other than getting the fuck out of there.

So yeah, stopping time – or manipulating it, whatever – was not something he needed to be surprised about.

Moving on.

Lance wanted to know more about the boy, eh? Shiro had taken a moment to himself, focusing on the feeling of the boy in front of him, and the effervescent feeling of the other boy through Lance’s thoughts – it would have been a lot clearer and a lot easier if he had the other boy her with him, but that wasn’t really possible right now, so he’d have to make do.

One of the perks he had with his skill was that he was able to see glimpses of the future – it was strange, that was for sure, he wasn’t sure what that had to do with telepathy, or mind reading – he had expected to be more like Phoenix from X-Men with the  telekinesis , but he was more like Professor X. 

But he could see Lance and the boy together, glimpses, like snapshots, of them in a coffee shop, in the movies, hugging, holding hands, arguing with red faces, kissing, at his home, at what he thought was Lance’s home, together, always together. They looked like they were in love.

So, when Lance asked if he could talk to Adam about one of his patients, Shiro nodded.

He was eager to see how this all turned out, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question to you readers!  
> Would you prefer this length chapters daily, or larger ones every few days?


	8. Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah...so Keith is Korean.

Look, okay. Don’t get Keith wrong.

He tried. Like...all the time, okay? 

But sometimes things just didn’t work the first time round, and sometimes Keith preferred punching something – or in this case some _one -_ instead of thinking about it like any rational teenager would. 

It had been three weeks since he first met Adam Wasti. And in those three weeks, he had grown fond of the tan skinned man. Though in the four years since his parents passed, Keith never got close to anyone, hell, he didn’t make any connections with anyone at all. It only hurt when their thoughts and words didn’t work together all the time. When people meant one thing and said another. Keith sometimes wished he hadn’t been given this curse. 

_It’s a gift, Keith. Not a curse. Never think it’s a curse!_

Adam was chipping away at his tough exterior. And he allowed it. Because Adam Wasti, for all that he was, was a good person on the inside and the outside. Keith hadn’t met anyone like that for a very long time. Everyone he knew wanted something from him, a way to make themselves feel better, pity on the poor misers and orphans, a way to collect benefits and make more money. It was about money mostly. He didn’t get it, he was a twelve year old, he didn’t _have_ any money. 

But, he was fond of Adam. Fond in a way that made him violent when anyone would say anything bad about him. 

Especially when it was something Adam couldn’t help. 

So, he hadn’t thought about it when, as he and Adam were walking from the office to the park for another picnic. Keith really liked their picnics, especially all the delicious food the doctor would bring. He would ask Keith if he could pick out what ingredients had been used, or how it felt like it had been made. He’d keep his thoughts to himself, thinking about something else, like how happy Keith looked, how his face lit up and he looked less stressed, less malnourished. And Keith would try his best. 

He got so many things wrong, but he liked seeing Adam’s face light up like the sun shining above them when he got it right. It was a weird feeling. He...

Adam...reminded him...of his mother. 

So, when they had made their way from the office and to the park, getting their picnic things set and ready for their session. Keith had every right mind to retaliate. 

The man deserved it, for yelling out the racists’ expletives to such a wonderful man. His mother didn’t deserve being called something so blatantly awful. And with the thoughts the man was thinking about doing to his mother. 

So, he didn’t think. He just stood as tall as he could, hands to fists on his sides, and used his whole force to punch the asshole man on his nose. He felt something break passed his knuckles, felt it reverberated into his bones, felt the heady rush of blood spurt all over his hand. 

But what made him the happiest was the raucous thoughts running through the assholes mind. How a kid broke his nose. 

Through the din of smugness, the pride of protecting his family, of protecting his mother from the bad man, he heard Adam’s words, felt how worried he was, heard his name being called out loud, the same way his mother would do whenever he had done something bad. 

“Keith!” 

There was a group of people crowding around them, watching them, thinking all sorts of thoughts, all catered towards how the man must have done something to the little kid. How brave he was for fighting back. But there was also so many people thinking on how bad a parent Adam must be for letting his child wander so lose like that. 

Adam was trying his hardest to apologise to the man with the bloodied and broken nose, saying how sorry he was. Though his thoughts were screaming that he shouldn’t have to apologise, the man was _an asshole, a fucking dick for saying such foul words in front of so many children! It was a weekend for fucks sakes, and who the fuck even says shit like that anymore? Racist mother fu—_

Keith couldn’t help it, his emotions wrought with everything going on around him. His body tensed up; mother was angry...Adam was angry...he didn’t like it when his mother was angry. She was going to yell at the man – she'd never yell at him, she _never_ yelled at him! But then again, Keith had never punched a man before – his hand was aching, knuckles most likely bruising, the shuddery pain reaching all the way up to his elbows. 

He started crying. 

He didn’t remember much after that, just that Adam had knelt down before him, reaching out for him, but not touching him, asking if he was okay to be hugged. Keith sniffled, nodded, and felt the warmth when Adam gathered him up in his arms. He still had their picnic basket in the crook of his arms, and they made their way deeper into the park and away from the commotion. 

_‘Thank god you started crying.’_ Adam’s thoughts gave Keith pause, he sniffled. He knew Adam didn’t mean it in a bad way. But when Keith started crying, it had given them both an out of the situation they had caught up with. 

Adam sat him down on a bench, crouching before him and holding onto his arms, showing he was still here, that he wasn’t angry or upset. He didn’t know just how delicate the situation was at the moment. But he had heard Keith crying, bawling his eyes out in his sobs as he called for his mother. 

Keith had been calling for his mother. 

Looking at him now, the way his teary eyes were glossed over, fingers clenching on his sides, one bloodied and turning a faint pinkish blue. His lips were in a cute pout, but his body looked like it had curled in on itself.

_"Mianhae, eomma,"_ Keith murmured within the sniffles, still lost in his haze. “ _Nanuen uimihaji anh-assda,”_

“Keith,” Adam tried to make his voice was soothing as possible, trying to coax Keith out of his own thoughts. It would have helped a ton if he actually knew the language Keith was speaking. It sounded Korean, he guessed. He could recognise some of the words from all of the Korean dramas he used to watch way back when. “Hey, it's okay. I’m not angry,” 

He tentatively reached for Keith’s injured hand, holding it carefully in both of his own. “Shall we get this cleaned up?” 

Keith was about to nod, but he felt that familiar tug in his chest, the same feeling he had felt a few weeks back when he the world had stopped around him and he had first seen that boy. His body had stopped moving, looking passed Adam, hands aloft the doctors own. The birds had stopped singing, the people had stopped moving, the low hum he’d usually hear from the world was gone. 

Blissful silence. 

That...boy...was he back? 

_Why are you crying?_

He was! He was back! Keith hadn't dreamt him up! He was real! 

The sudden shift from Adam’s hazel eyes to a beautiful shock of sea blue floored him, made his heart palpitate and his body shudder with...something. He wasn’t sure what this feeling was. It was...it...it was... 

...good. Right. It felt right. Like this boy – whoever he was – was important. Why, Keith didn’t know. Hell, he didn’t even know if this whole thing was real, or if he was just imagining things. But this boy, with the most gorgeous sea blue eyes, pretty tanned skin, and cute nose was... 

...he was so... 

The warm hand on his own injured one made a shock of electricity rush through him, making him shudder. But his body didn’t move, he couldn’t do anything. He could only watch on as the boy leaned down to his hand and blew lightly at the bruises forming on it. 

“It looks like it hurts,” he murmured, slowly blowing cool, moist air onto his bruise. Keith felt the boys’ breath curl around his injured knuckles, seeping into his skin and settling like it belonged there. Like this boy belonged in his very skin. Lightning shook his insides when he felt soft, warm and firm lips press to his knuckle, a small tap of skin against warm skin. It made his entire body warm, and his insides clench with a weird constricting feeling. “I hope Dr. Wasti can make you feel better.” 

Wait ...did this beautiful boy know Adam? 

Maybe not close enough, because he was calling him _Dr. Wasti,_ and not Adam. So, he wasn’t a patient. But maybe...maybe he knew Adam personally? 

“I going to do my best to meet you soon, _niño bonito,”_ The boy said, getting back up onto his feet. He looked around and then back at Keith, giving him a breath taking smile, one that made Keith’s body melt. “Not...not like this...but for real.” 

Keith wanted to nod, wanted to say anything. He wanted to meet this boy as well, not like this, not where he couldn’t _do_ anything. But...would that be possible? He didn’t even know the boy's name. Just how he looked like, what he sounded like. That wasn’t enough in the real world! 

“I hope you’re a nice guy,” the boy said, and Keith watched him walk away before the sensation of the world restarting shook him away. It felt like someone had pressed a hand to his navel and was pushing against it. 

He sucked in a breath. Had...had anyone else...seen? 

Focusing on the other people in the park around them, and at Adam, he noticed. No one knew about that boy, no one knew that time had completely stopped around them for those few precious moments. No one knew anything. 

Was the boy his imagination? Had Keith conjured him up in his grief? 

Or was...was he real? 

“Shall we get this cleaned up?” Adam’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He nodded, seeing there was no point in trying to get the man to understand just what happened. Adam may be susceptible to his powers, but maybe he wasn’t ready to know there were people out there who could _stop time._ He didn’t want to get the boy in trouble. 

He would ask Adam if he knew of a boy with beautiful blue eyes. But not now. 

Soon... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shout out to Shineberoy for telling me kindly I hadn't put the translations down here!
> 
>  **Translations**  
>  Mianhae, eomma. Nanuen uimihaji anh-assda, - I'm sorry, mama/mother, I didn't mean to.
> 
> Just in case, if you're on desktops/laptops, you can hover your mouse over to get the translations.  
> If you're on your phones/tablets/futuristic handheld tech stuff, then I will put the translations down here! And if I don't, pleeeeease tell me!  
> Thanks Shiney! ^_^


	9. Eomma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith is having some trouble with his trauma.

**_No one gives a fuck about you._ **

Keith lay in his bed in Miss Hagger’s House, staring up at the grey speckled ceiling, his eyes straining and tired, raw red from the tears he was holding back. His chest felt heavy, his arms lead weights on either side of him.

**_How could you even think he cares? No one ever does, and no one ever will._ **

“Up, boy!” Haggar’s voice came sharply through the closed doorway. He turned his eyes to it, seeing passed the other beds in the room and to the door. He didn’t want her to open the door and see him like this. There was no one else here, everyone was outside, playing, or doing something, leaving Keith alone in the room he shared with all the boys at the House.

He had to go to his appointment with Adam today. His heart sunk at the thought.

He remembered what happened after they had arrived back at the office. He had been so scared, so worried that Adam was going to shun him, was going to yell at him. Adam’s fingers had been wrapped tentatively around Keith’s injured knuckles. A frown on his face and determination in his eyes as he pushed open the door to his office and led Keith inside. 

Keith followed, unsure of what else to do. Adam looked angry, but his thoughts showed anger at others, not at Keith. He was angry at that man who had insulted them. He was angry that he had exposed Keith to something like this, enough to make Keith relapse. He was angry that he hadn’t seen the signs sooner. 

_I need to do something about this._

He had given Keith a look, one that stuck the boy to the floor. **_He wants to get rid of you._ ** Shock, awe, and something else. Something Keith didn’t know. **_You’re such a pathetic, crying child. Weak. He doesn’t want you. He’ll never want you. No one will._** He wanted to cry again, to reach for Adam and hug him tight. But he wouldn’t do that. So, he stood still, not even sitting down when Adam motioned for him to do so. 

**_He wants to get rid of you._ **

He was rummaging around with a few things in the drawers, pulling them open and closed, riffling through them trying to find whatever it was he was looking for. His thoughts were a jumble of Urdu and English, yet nothing was really making sense to Keith. 

_...talk to Shiro..._

**_He wants to get rid of you._ **

_...can’t believe this..._

**_He wants to get rid of you._ **

_...no more, I promise..._

**_He wants to get rid of you._ **

_...he might not even want to..._

**_He wants to get rid of you._ **

_...I need to at least try..._

**_He wants to get rid of you._ **

Keith wasn’t sure what was happening. Adam was quiet, quieter than usual. And it had scared him. Was he going to send him back? Was he going to be yet another one of those therapists that would refer him onto someone else? Keith knew he was a problem child, he had heard it enough, but he thought he and Adam had gotten so close. 

Oh god. 

**_You did it again, Keith._ **

The voice was right. He had gotten close to someone, and now they were just going to throw him away like some kind of old toy. Not wanted, not cared for. He was always going to be alone. No matter how much he tried. No matter how much he... 

**_Leave. Save Adam the disgust of having to look at you._ **

...he couldn’t be here anymore. 

Keith had left the office quietly, giving one last wistful look to Adam, who was crouched down at the other end of the room, murmuring and thinking so quietly as he shuffled papers and things around. Keith didn’t wait to see when Adam had found whatever it was, he had been looking for, or how he triumphantly held the paper in the air, only to turn around to see that Keith had left. 

**_Pathetic._ **

He couldn’t go back. 

Adam didn’t want him. No one wanted him. He was going to be stuck here forever, wasting away, with no purpose in life other than to just be something Haggar yelled at, commanded to. 

He didn’t know how long a time had passed, but it must have been long enough for Miss Hagger as she returned back to his door, slamming her fist against the wood and calling his name out again. Without waiting for his response, she pushed open the door and made her way over to him. 

_Disrespectful...no manners...do so much for him...and this is how he treats me..._

She yanked him up off the bed, dragging him downstairs and to the front entrance of the house. She threw his shoes at him and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Put your shoes on and go to your appointment,” she commanded, watching him with steely eyes as he ducked down to put his shoes on. “How is anyone going to adopt you if you can’t even obey simple tasks?” 

Keith nodded, numbly tying the laces to his red shoes, grimacing at how tight they were getting on his feet – his father had given him these shoes, they were the only shoes he had here, and he would never part with them – he nodded as Hagger told him off for dawdling and pushed him out of the house. 

She threw his rucksack with his things – not that he had much in the first place – and motioned for him to go. 

“Wait!” She called out, making Keith pause. She stepped out of the house, reaching for him and pulling him into a hug. An icy cold shiver rushed through him at her touch, her sharp nails digging into his back as she hugged him – she had to show the others in the street that she was a _good mother_ after all. No one would question her. “I will be calling the doctors’ office in ten minutes, if you’re not there by then, there will be hell to pay,” 

Keith nodded, numbly making his way out of the house and down the street to the therapists’ office. He didn’t bother with looking around, like he had recently been doing. Now with the earphones in his ear, blocking out most of the loud sounds, he had been more eager to look up and see the world. 

Instead, he shrugged the hood of his too big hoodie over his head, shoving his hands in his pockets, and made his way down the road. He really didn’t want to be here, but if Hagger found out he wasn’t, then it would only make it worse for him. 

He didn’t have anywhere else to go, after all. 

Stepping into the office, he paused at the secretary, hearing her telling whoever was on the phone that ‘yes, he just walked in, Miss Haggar,’ 

He sighed. Already used to his House Mother wanting to know everywhere he went. He was _a child of the_ _House,_ _you will not disrespect me._ Holding tighter onto his bag, he made his way to the secretary, seeing her smiling face as she motioned him closer. 

“Hey there Keith,” she said, her voice light and airy. But her thoughts were different. _Crap, this isn’t going to go well._

He was right all along. Adam didn’t want to see him anymore. He didn’t want anything to do with Keith. Who’d want a sad, crying child who couldn’t even take care of himself, who had so many issues that no one could love him. 

**_So pathetic. Useless. Worthless._ **

“I’m sorry sweetie, but Dr. Wasti’s taken today off,” The secretary said, giving him a sad look. _‘I can see why Adam cares for this kid. Poor thing. He so adorable,’_

Adam...cared for him? He needed to see him. He didn’t know why, but Keith wanted to see Adam, to make sure what this woman was saying was right. Adam cared for him, right? He wouldn’t just leave him, would he? 

“I... I know...” Keith replied, not knowing what he was saying. But he knew he had to at least try. What? He wasn’t sure. 

“Oh...” The secretary paused, typing something at her computer on the desk she was sitting at. ‘ _It's not like Adam to not tell his clients when he’s off. Is this some kind of house call situation? Or maybe he referred Keith onto someone else?’_

House call? “Ho-house call,” he muttered, not really sure what that meant. But with the way the secretary’s eyes lit up, he knew he must have said something positive. 

“Did he tell you his address, sweetie?” She asked, leaning closer to Keith and giving him a lovely smile as she did so. She really was pretty, and very nice, 

Keith shook his head. “We...uh...he didn’t get the chance to tell me,” 

_‘That silly man, he’d lose his head if he didn’t have it screwed on.’_

She nodded, noting something down on the computer. Pulling out a post it note pad, she wrote something on it and handed it to Keith. He took the paper and saw there was Adam’s name on it, followed by an address. Keith was shocked at how easy it was for him to get this information.

“I’ll call a taxi for you,” 

He nodded, watching as she picked up the phone and ordered a taxi for him. When she was done, she told him to take a seat on one of the comfy chairs and to wait. He nodded, settling into the plush. His grip tight on the piece of paper. 

**_What are you doing? You can’t just go to his house!_ **

Keith winced at the voice. He knew it was probably the wrong thing to do, but he just needed to see Adam, he needed to know if the man truly did care for him, or if he really did want to get rid of him. 

Time passed by in a blur, and soon Keith found himself getting out of the taxi, thanking the driver, and looking up to a lovely looking two story home. There were flowers and a cobblestone path leading up to a pale white door. The wrap around porch with the comfy looking swinging seat and small table looked inviting. Keith pushed the iron gate open and made his way along the path, neatly trimmed grass on either side of him, a large cherry blossom tree curving around the front, and flowers dotted here and there. There was a whole line of flowers at the foot of the porch, making the house look like something from a fairy tale. 

His house used to look like this... 

Grabbing onto the white painted wood, he took careful steps up to the door. His house used to have creaking wood steps, and this house was the same. The groaned pleasantly under his weight. There was an iron bell above the door. He pulled the chain and it chimed. 

_Eomma_ had always wanted this kind of bell... _appa_ was happy with the normal doorbell. They had argued a little through kisses – which never made sense to Keith – but _eomma_ had finally gotten her bell. It hadn’t really been used though, people who visited had always thought it was just a door ornament, and would use the bell instead. But Keith always liked reaching for it and ringing it, just so he could see his eomma smile. 

His heart ached. 

He rang the bell again, but no one answered. Knocking on the door resulted in the same. Maybe Adam wasn’t home? No, there was his car parked in the driveway. He had to be here right? Maybe if he tried pushing the door open? He reached for the handle and pushed the lock at the top down. Surprised that the door opened with a small click. 

He pushed it open tentatively, exposing the foyer, stairs on one side, and a living room with plush leather sofas and a large television mounted on the wall. He couldn’t see much of anything else. The house was quiet. Feet tapping silently on the white wooden floors, he made his way into the house. 

The door closed behind him with an audible thump. 

“Shiro, are you back?” 

Adam’s voice was raspy and muffled and came from upstairs. Hesitating for a moment, Keith paused at the door. This was breaking and entering, he couldn’t do this to Adam. But he just _had_ to see him. With that thought, he made his way up the stairs and along the corridor to the room with the slightly ajar door. Peering through it, he saw Adam lying in bed, the sheets covering his body all the way to his neck, his nose reddened and skin pale. 

Keith gasped, his thoughts quickly rushed to the memory of his parents, of his mother at the funeral home. She had been lying just as still, just as pale, just as... 

“ _Eomma_ ...” He pushed the door open. His mother was in there, she was still breathing. She wasn’t dead. He didn’t believe it then, and he definitely didn’t believe it now. His _eomma_ was alive! She was right there! He had to get closer. 

He saw his _eomma_ get up from the bed, holding her arms out to him, calling his name. Heart clenching in his chest, he dashed to her, vaulting onto the bed and hugging her close. 

_“Eomma, dasineun tteona jima,_ ” He cried into her chest, “I’ll be good, I promise,” 

The door to the room was shoved open, and he was suddenly yanked away from his _eomma_. He cried, screaming and kicking and punching at whoever had taken him away. A metal arm wrapped around his waist and held him still. 

_Calm down Keith...I’m not here to hurt you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Eomma - mama/mother  
> Appa - father  
> "Eomma, dasineun tteona jima," - "Mama, don't leave me again,"


	10. Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry.  
> You may need to get the tissues ready.  
> We're going to be hitting a little bit of suicidal thoughts. Just a little.
> 
> Also, I love Krolia/Keith's dad, like so much. So expect a lot more flashbacks with the two of them being all sweet and cute and stuff.
> 
> **EDIT **  
> Thank you October_Moon for telling me Abeoji was a more formal form of 'father'.  
>  All Abeoji's throughout this fic have been changed to 'appa', which is a non-formal way of saying dad/father.  
> Cheers dearie~!****

Keith was an idiot.

He felt like he was being an idiot a lot lately. But he really couldn’t help it. He had just seen Adam in the bed, lying there, breathing raggedly, nose stuffed up and reddened, eyes bleary and half open. But he had been alive. And for some reason – one he wasn’t going to look into, because if thinking about it was this awkward, he didn’t want to imagine what actually saying it out loud would be like – for some reason, he had seen his mother.

He remembered when his eomma had been sick. She had fainted while washing the dishes, Keith had jumped off the counter he had been sitting on, rushing over to her and saw her heavy breathing, eyes glassed over and skin sweaty to touch and started crying. This was the first time he had seen his eomma just collapse like that!

Keith had felt a panic attack come on. His heart clenching, stomach in knots, he carefully moved the soaked hair from his eomma’s eyes and had seen her wake up at the touch. She looked at him, letting out a small smile, murmuring how sorry she was to scare him.

“It's okay, Keithy-cat,” she said to him, letting her arm fall from where it had been ruffling his hair a little. “Don’t be afraid, eomma’s just not feeling very well, right now.”

Water...water usually helped at a time like this, right? His eomma was burning up. She needed to get cooled down. That’s what eomma always did whenever he and appa would play outside in the sun and get too hot.

He lay his mother down on the cool tile, and got up, he got the small plastic step and stood on it, reaching for a clean glass in the drying rack. He checked to make sure the running water was cold, and filled the glass up.

“It’s okay, eomma,” he called out. “Keithy is going to get you some water,”

He returned to his eomma and lifted her head onto his lap. He held the glass to her lips and urged her to drink. She had lifted her head up a little more and took small sips. When she was done, she lay back on his lap and ran her fingers through his hair.

Maybe he should call the police, or maybe he could call appa directly. But he didn’t know any of their numbers. He could go to Miss Petrakis next door! She’d know what to do right?

“Eomma...I’m going to go get Miss Petrakis.” Keith whimpered, worried for her life. Her eyes were so glassy, like she wasn’t even here anymore. It worried him.

He nodded bravely and got up, carefully laying her head on the ground. Rushing to the living room, he got a cushion and the throw over the back of the sofa, and returned to his eomma. Lifting her head again, he placed the cushion under it, and rested her head carefully back down. Throwing the blanket over her body, he tucked it at the corners, like she did for him.

Okay, that was that. He had gotten up, and made his way to the door, giving his eomma one last look. Careful not to the bolt the door behind him, he ran through the garden, jumping over the picket fence, and into Miss Petrakis’s house. He rang the doorbell, and knocked a few times, before the older woman opened the door.

“Oh, hello Keith,” Her voice had been weary when she had spoken. She noticed his scared expression and was suddenly alert. “Is everything okay?”

Keith shook his head, taking her hand and dragging her out of the house. “My eomma! She fell and she’s really warm, I gave her water but I don’t know what to do!”

"Take me to her,"

He led her to their house and straight into the kitchen. Where his eomma was trying to get up to reach for her phone. She held a hand to her head. She looked up when she noticed them and smiled weakly.

“I’m so sorry Nat,” she called out weakly.

Miss Petrakis shook her head, dropping down and patting lightly at her back. “Krolia, are you okay, my dear? What happened?”

She checked her temperature and commended Keith’s quick thinking to get her water when she was overheated so much.

“You need to take better care for yourself,” Miss Petrakis reprimanded, helping her up and off the kitchen floor and to the living room sofa. They stumbled a little, but Keith was there to help if anything happened.

“Now Keith,” she said suddenly, when eomma was situated carefully on the sofa, the blankets covering her up to her waist. “I have a very important job for you,” -- Keith stood to attention, ready to hear his orders. -- “I need you to call your father, his number should be under his name on the house phone. I want you to tell him calmly about what happened, can you do that?”

Keith nodded, getting to work.

He had called the fire station for his appa and had calmly told him what was happening. Less than twenty minutes later, his father had rushed into the house, lightning fast, the front door cracking shut behind him. He was still in his fireman’s outfit, sooty and hot to the touch. He thanked Miss Petrakis and had easily lifted eomma up and moved her to their bed upstairs.

Everything had been a rush after that, Miss Petrakis had left them, telling Keith to close and lock the door behind her, which he did. He had rushed up the stairs and listened as his appa ordered him to bring towels, blankets and a large bowl of cool water. He had done his job diligently, climbing the stairs with a large plastic bowl filled with tea towels and bath towels from the cupboards. He stopped at the airing cupboard to throw in some blankets and some more towels and pillows and anything else soft he could find.

He dumped his load onto the bed and quickly rushed to the upstairs bathroom, turning the tap in the bath and filling the bowl with cool water. He carefully lifted it up and took it back to his parents’ room. Taking one last stop at his own room to grab his stuffed hippo. He saw his appa reprimanding his mother quietly, while holding a spoonful of icky medicine. She pouted, but took the medicine anyway. 

“Eomma,” Keith called out quietly, clenching the corners of the bucket, making the water inside shudder with ripples. “Appa, is eomma okay?”

His father motioned him over, taking the plastic bowl from him and running a hand through his hair, rustling the ends.

“Your eomma is a stubborn little thing,” his appa stated, taking one of the blankets and dipping it into the bowl. He wrung the towel and folded it neatly, before placing it on her forehead. Keith saw her visibly relax at the cold compress. “But she’s going to be okay, you did very well, I’m so proud of you,”

He handed her his stuffed hippo. "Have Mr. Hippo, he'll make you feel all better," 

His eomma took it, hugging the soft purple plush close to her chest and smiled. "Thank you Keithy, I'm feeling better already," 

His mother had had a fever, but she had gotten better after a few days.

It...it was odd how seeing Adam like that had made him think of his mother. How he felt just as helpless, just as wrung out and sorry that he couldn’t do more. 

He sat there, on the sofa of Adam’s house, curled in on himself, feeling absolutely awful. He gnawed at the flesh between his thumb and index finger, trying to hide his whimpering.

**_Pathetic..._ **

_I'm sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry..._

“Keith,” He looked up to see Adam and Mr. Shiro sitting in front of him, Adam was wrapped up in a blanket, holding a cup of hot tea in his hands. He had a stick on cold compress on his forehead and was giving Keith a worried look. 

He flinched when Shiro moved, pushing the mug of what looked like hot cocoa towards him.

It was so quiet in this house. He couldn’t hear Adam or Shiro’s thoughts – maybe they didn’t have any thoughts to think right now, or maybe they could both quieten them down enough so Keith couldn't hear them. It was all so frightening.

**_Pathetic, worthless, useless. How could you even think something like this would work? You broke into their house, you assaulted Adam with a hug when he was trying to sleep. You think they’d want you after all of this?_ **

Keith forced himself not to cry. He needed to get out of here.

**_Pathetic. USELESS. WHY ARE YOU EVEN STILL ALIVE? YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED ALONG WITH YOUR PARENTS! DID THEY EVEN LOVE YOU? DID THEY EVEN CARE FOR YOU? NO, THEY JUST LEFT YOU—_ **

“Keith! Stop!” Shiro’s voice cut through the din of his thoughts.

Foggy headed, Keith hadn’t noticed his erratic breathing, the bloody taste in his mouth, or the fact that his teeth had actually broken through his flesh. Shiro had acted so quickly, reaching for his injured hand, yanking it away from his mouth and holding it close to his chest. Dragging him up and into a hug.

“You are not useless,” he murmured, running his fingers through Keith’s hair, lifting him up so easily and seating him on his lap. “You’re not pathetic, you’re so brave,”

_So brave...you’re so strong...you’re going to get through this...I promise..._

Overwhelmed, he didn’t know what to do. He felt safe and warm in Shiro’s arms, taking in the strong and somewhat familiar scent of the man. He started crying, loud harsh sobs that wracked his entire body. 

Everything he had been holding back for the past four years, his parents death, being carted off into orphanages and foster homes, landing in Miss Hagger’s House and not being able to leave, how all the families that came to adopt would just glance over him, thinking he was _too old, and probably a handful_ to be adopted, how he had finally met something good with Adam, only to have that ripped away from him.

He cried until there was no more tears left in him, until he had exhausted himself to sleep in Shiro’s warm and comfortable arms. All the while, Shiro’s fingers still ran through his hair, the same way his parents would do.

His appa's voice calling to him while he slept soundly in his arms. _“I won’t let anything hurt you, Keithy-cat,”_

_I won’t let anything hurt you, Keith. I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**  
>  Eomma - mother/mama  
> Appa - father/dad
> 
> So, we got through it. Great.  
> I'm proud of us.  
> Just FYI, the voice in Keith's head will be dealt with as realistically as possible, but at the end of the day, this is just a romance fanfic and everything is usually blown out of proportion.  
> But just know, this kind of thing isn't going to go away any time soon. I am currently in Keith's shoes, so I can understand what people are going through. And as an actual psychiatrist, I know how to work through these feelings (hmu on sakurai-ai.tumblr.com if you just want to rant).  
> If any one of you have similar problems like this, please, please, please, get in touch with professionals who can help you!


	11. Boy Wonder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> Sorry its a little short, but I am not feeling up to scratch right now.
> 
> Also, I may not be uploading a chapter tomorrow (I'll try my best) but I will be travelling for the day, and I can't really do car rides and...phone writing/reading, etc. (car sickness, sorry)  
> I'll try if and when I can, so it may be late into the night (BST time) or Sunday. (sorry Mr. Dursley, there MAY be post this Sunday!)

“He’s asleep...”

Adam’s voice broke through the silence that had settled around them. Shiro wasn’t sure just what was happening, but he knew he had to stop whatever sick, dark, miasmic thoughts that were corrupting the kids mind. He could still feel the tar like sickness surrounding the boy, claws digging into him and refusing to let go.

It made him feel sick.

“Adam...what...what even was all that?” His grip instinctively tightened on the boy in his arms. He may look peaceful, breathing heavily while he slept so soundly, eyes puffy and tear tracks running down his ruddy cheeks. But Shiro could hear him, hear his thoughts, his dreams, they were screaming at him, so loud that he couldn’t focus. Keith...poor Keith. How loud must they be for him that even Shiro could hear them so loud and so in tune, even while he dreamt.  **_ Useless...worthless...pathetic...you should have died... _ ** none of it was true. “Should I... what should I do?”

Adam placed a warm hand on his shoulder, breaking him from sinking into the same hell Keith was currently going through. He...he had Adam, he had his anchor, his heaven, his place of solace. But Keith didn’t. Keith needed  someone; he needed an anchor. He needed to be able to find a way out of this darkness.

But Shiro wasn’t sure it could just be him and Adam who could help him.

“Let’s put him in the guest room,” Adam stated, getting up on shaky legs. He could hear the sweetened thoughts from his love, of how poor the boy was, how he didn’t have anyone, how  _ they  _ had space, had a good home, a good life, they could take him in. They could look after him. “Don’t give me that look, you know exactly what I’m thinking so don’t even try it,”

“Adam, we can’t...we can’t keep him.” Shiro whispered harshly, quietening Keith will a little rocking of his arms when he whined. “He’s not a stray cat that wandered into our home, starving and wanting love,”

Adam sucked in a breath. It was like Shiro didn’t even see what he was doing. “Does he not look hungry and tired, my star?”

Shiro looked down to the boy in his arms, slowly getting up from the sofa and to the stairs, taking a glance back, he saw Adam follow him, wrapping the warm blankets around his shivering body. They made their way slowly up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. He laid Keith down on the soft comforters, he helped take off Keith shoes, seeing the sentiment in the too small size, and the scruffiness of it all, he didn’t need Adam to tell him how important these shoes were to Keith. He dropped them on the side, by the bed, and drew the blanket up and over Keith’s body.

He looked so helpless like this, so vulnerable. His body was so malnourished, even with what Adam had been feeding him on their sessions. He was sure that that was the only time the boy ever ate anything. Shiro really wanted to just feed him with all the food he wanted, see him flourish into a handsome man, who didn’t look like some kind of sickly boy. He wanted to hold the boy close and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

When was the last time he had laughed? Smiled? Hell, had any positive emotions that weren’t overrun with the sickness?

Adam had helped him out of his darkness, had loved him, cherished him, cared for him in ways Shiro couldn’t even fathom. It had taken a long time, and Shiro still sometimes woke up in the middle of the night with those thoughts, heart beat running a mile a minute, breath ragged and skin slicked with sweat. But he’d reach to his side, see Adam was there, and he’d feel...well...better about it all.

He ran a hand through Keith’s hair, feeling the heated skin underneath. He looked back to Adam, who had taken to fluffing Keith’s pillows a little and dragging the blankets and tucking him in like one would a child. “...how would we even do this? Would  _ he  _ even want this?” 

“I think he needs the support after everything he’s been through.” he murmured, his thoughts returning to their sessions for the past few weeks. 

He knew Shiro was reading his thoughts, seeing everything that happened. How he was slowly opening up, how he looked worried and so very helpless whenever he was asked about his past, how he would sometimes relapse into a time when he was much happier, and he would call Adam  eomma sometimes when he didn’t know what he was doing. Shiro could tell their sessions must have been a highlight for the boy, he wouldn’t smile, but he’d look a lot brighter whenever they went out to the park, at their spot, and eat all the food Adam would make for them.

He saw how Keith had punched a man when he yelled racial profanity at them, how he had stood in front of Adam, how he had protected him from a man who was twice his size. 

“Please ’ kashi , there’s just something about him...” Shiro had to agree, there was a weird sensation growing in the pit of his stomach. Like something was pulling him towards this kid. He hadn’t ever seen anyone like Keith. He was special. “And... well, he has the same super power as you, doesn’t Superman want a boy wonder on your side?”

Boy... “Boy Wonder? I think you’re getting your superheroes mixed up there, my moon,”

Adam pouted cutely, his lips pursed up and his eyes darted away. Shiro leaned forward and kissed him lightly, attempting to break that pout.  It worked.

“Wait...” he  paused, eyes narrowing. “You already have the adoption papers, don’t you?”

Adam squeaked, wrapping the blankets tighter around his body and faking a cough. “Oh dear, my fever is back, I need to go to bed too,”

“Adam!”

He rushed out of the room, careful not to make too much noise. Even he could tell Keith needed all the sleep he could get. He’d just have to send a message to Miss Hagger and tell her the session was running long or something. They’d get to the adoption talk with her once he got Shiro fully on his side.

Not like that would take much.

**_ Where are you? _ **

_ Where am I? _

This doesn’t feel like the House, it felt more like...like he was back home. Surrounded in soft comforters and a thick and warm blanket, sinking into the plush give of the mattress underneath him. He was desperate to snuggle back into bed and let the day waste away, without a care in the world.

**_ Up! Get up! You useless pest, get the fuck out of bed. _ **

His eyes shot open. He took in his surroundings. It was dark, but he was able to make out a few things, like the large window with the drawn curtains, the dresser and cupboards and a wing back chair in the corner of the room. He was slow to move, trying to be as quiet as possible.

How had he...where...oh.

_ Oh. _

_ OH GOD.  _

He remembered. How he had stolen Adam’s address, lied to the nice secretary and got his address, had her call him a taxi and then broke and entered into Adam’s house. And then...then...he had jumped on him while he was in bed. But someone had pulled him back.

Someone who was warm, and calm, and  _ safe. Shiro. _ That man was Shiro, the same person Adam said had the same powers as him. The same person who could help him. Adam said they should meet, they should get to know one another, so he could learn how to work through his thoughts, his powers, and live as normal a life as possible.

They’d...they’d not want him now! Not after everything he had done.  _ Especially crying your eyes out in Shiro’s lap  _ **_ like a weakling, like a pathetic child! They won’t take  _ ** **_ you; _ ** **_ no one will love you! _ **

He had to get out of here.

_ ‘If you’re hungry, come down, dinner will be ready in a moment.’ _

The familiar, yet unfamiliar, sound of Shiro’s voice made him jolt. Not wanting to anger them, Keith got out of bed. He remembered how Miss Hagger would be angry whenever he was a little bit late for dinner, how she’d slap the back of his hand with the stick, how he’d have to wear long sleeves to hide the bruises.

He didn’t want that to happen! Shrugging his sleeves down and over the backs of his hands, he slipped on his shoes, noticing how neatly they had been put on the side of the bed, as if waiting for him to wear them. He felt tears well up at how his heel no longer sat on the sole of his shoes. He was getting too big for them.

But he didn’t let that stop him. Tying his too tight shoes on his feet, he made his way downstairs. He wasn’t going to stay, he couldn’t. He’d just thank them,  apologise once again, and then he’d leave. He could walk home, and then he’d deal with Miss Hagger.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it must be so very late.

The sounds of murmuring, pots and pans being used, and giggling came from the warmth of downstairs. Standing at the top of the stairs, he wasn’t sure if he could just go down there and break the happiness, the sweetness of their happy life.

He just needed to find his bag, and then he could just leave. The front door was right there. He wasn’t sure where it would be. He had rushed up the stairs without thought. Maybe it was in their room? Or maybe it was downstairs after they had sat him down.

“Dinner is ready,” Adam’s voice came from the hallway, looking down, Keith saw he was standing at the stairs, hidden behind the balusters, looking up at him. “I made something new, and I need to test your knowledge on how I cooked it,”

Adam had such a lovely and warm smile on his face as he held his hand out for Keith to take. It was like he was showing Keith how much he wanted him to stay,  _ please have dinner with us. Please let us take care of you. _

Crap, there wasn’t any way he would be able to leave now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I freakin' adore Adashi! (you can take Adam's death and shove it up your-ahem)
> 
> Dreamworks, yo. WTF. We were denied such wonderful older/parental relationships.
> 
> Also, just FYI, in case you don't know.  
> Boy Wonder is the name for Robin, Batman's sidekick, not Supermans.


	12. Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> So, here's Saturday's update...on Sunday! (suck it Dursley)  
> (a/n; urgh, family, summer, heat, new haircut that I hate. The teasing. Oh man, wtf, thank goodness its over)
> 
> I...think, tissues might be needed.

Dinner at Adam and Shiro’s house was tense.

So much more tense than Keith was used to. But it was a lot different than back at the House. Miss Hagger only fed them three times a day, and she had a rule. You ate during that time, or you  didn’t eat at all.

There were so many of them in the House, sitting on the large table, or on the floor, or seats set around the dining room, empty plates ready to be filled in hand. The table would only have a few bowls of food for them all, filled with simple foods, like plain chicken, mashed potatoes,  beans and salads. Something Miss Hagger could buy in bulk and make easily. Sometimes, on the  really good days, Miss Hagger would make a few burgers and a handful of chips for them to eat. Not that Keith had  _ ever  _ gotten a burger from the table. And even if, by some miracle, he did, he would always give it to one of the younger or weaker ones of the group.

He could always try to eat at breakfast, it  wasn’t a big deal for him. But some of the kids at the House needed it more than he did. Some of them had only just moved in, still had hope in their eyes, and a gaping  maw in their stomachs. And, when Keith would listen to their thoughts, he  wouldn’t be able to stop himself from handing his entire plate to another who was hungry for it. 

Though she never  stated it – not that Miss Hagger ever would, it would ruin her  reputation after all – they all knew the food, along with everything else in the house, was at a first come, first serve basis. The small library – which was honestly just a small shelf full of old, withering book, many not even in English – was always empty whenever Keith tried to get a book to pass the time, the toy box – another luxury that had broken or battered toys inside – was also always empty whenever Keith got a chance to get into it.

Miss Hagger would lock away the best toys and books and only bring them out on special days, like when parents or inspectors came to look at the area and at the kids. They would always be so eager and happy to play with the toys, that the parents and inspectors would be none the wiser.

Miss Hagger always made them clean, each of them had chores to do, so everything would look spotless whenever surprise inspections happened.  No one knew anything about what really happened at Miss Hagger’s House.

And food times was the same. Keith would never understand. If they all rationed the food properly, like they should have, there would  probably be enough food for all of them to eat, though it would be much smaller portions, at least no one would go to bed hungry. 

But Miss Hagger liked to make them compete, giving a chance for the younger ones – the ones who were most likely to be adopted – to get the food first, while the elder ones would get whatever was left. And that  didn’t include the favouritism she had with certain kids over others.

Miss Hagger hated him. He never received anything.

But because of this rule, because of this competitive act she made them do, they would rush for the food, leaving nothing behind. Either they were to eat now, or play this game for breakfast.  If you  weren’t quick enough, you would leave with nothing at all. Keith always opted out of eating dinner entirely, most nights. Sometimes, it just  wasn’t worth the hassle.

So sitting here, watching as Adam sipped on a warm beverage – he wasn’t sure what it was, but it was fogging up his glasses – trying to nurse his fever, and Shiro doing something or another in the kitchen – after having explicitly told Keith to _ sit down and let me do the work.  _ It reminded Keith of home. Something he did not want any memory of right now.

It hurt too much.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to go back to a time where  he’d be sitting at the table, waiting for his  eomma to make food, while  appa and he set the table. It was always such a big affair, dinner at the  Kogane house. He missed it. He missed the smells, the sights, the tastes. He wanted. He wanted...he wanted something he could no longer get.

**_ What the hell _ ** **_ are you still doing here? Get your bag and get out! You are going to be late back to Hagger. Do you really want to get beat again? _ **

He  wasn’t even sure how much time had passed since he had forced his way into Adam’s house. It was getting dark outside, and he knew Miss Hagger was going to have his head when he got back to the House.  But if he  was going to go back home to a beating and no dinner, he could at least get something to eat here, right? Beatings always hurt more when he had an empty stomach. Bruises didn't fade that easy either.

Keith sat on the dining chair, letting out a few breaths as he listened in to the thoughts of the two people before him. Not that he could tell much. Shiro was surprisingly blank, only commenting on the food he was dishing out for them. And about how long it had been since they were able to have Japanese food made by him at the house, and how this sort of thing was usually made under  special circumstances .

Was Keith considered a special circumstance?

Or  maybe, Shiro would have done this anyway. Adam was sick with a  fever after all . Shiro  probably was only doing this so Adam would feel better. Keith  didn't want to think too much about it. Not wanting to jump to conclusions when he knew he was  probably wrong about it all.

**_ Who would ever want you anyway? _ **

Adam was...surprisingly loud, however. But it was like he was muttering under his breath with his thoughts. They were all a big  jumble of different languages, and nothing Keith could really decipher. Not that he could pay any attention anyway.  Keith was so nervous sitting there, his feet skimming the wooden floors, hands gripping the edges of the seat as he looked down onto the  knotted wood of the dining table. What were they doing? Why were they feeding him when he had broken into their house?

**_ They poisoned the food. _ **

No. They  wouldn't do that...would they?

He jolted from his seat when Shiro put a plate down in front of him. Grilled chicken that was spiced and sliced in large, thin pieces, in a slightly brown broth with white steamed rice submerged underneath. It looked good, and smelled good. And Keith bet it  probably tasted amazing. 

It was then Keith noticed then how hungry he  actually was . When was the last time he had eaten anything that  hadn’t been a biscuit he stole from the kitchen? Adam had given him something to eat on their last session.  Yeah , that was it. He had had kofte, little meatballs in a spicy sauce. It had been delicious.

"Go ahead," Shiro said with a smile, handing him a spoon and chopsticks, not sure which one he would prefer. “I hope it’s not too spicy, but I kind of wanted Adam to sweat out his fever,”

So, he was right. Keith  wasn’t a special circumstance. He  didn’t know why he thought he would be. It  wasn’t good that he was getting his hopes up like this. They didn't want him here. He was just...wrong place, wrong time.

Keith nodded, darting a quick gaze to the doctor, seeing he was smiling a little as he dipped his spoon into the broth and took a sip of it. His eyes brightened and a smile rose to his lips. His thoughts were a little less  jumbled now, commenting on the food and how much he loved Shiro.

It was sweet. But it made a weird feeling sink into his skin. A want that he knew  he’d never be able to get. It ached like a bruise, and stung like  he’d been prodded by something sharp.

**_ Don’t _ ** **_ want something you  _ ** **_ can’t _ ** **_ have. _ **

He sighed, picking up his spoon and copying Adam. He took a sip of the broth, a warm feeling rushed through him. It tasted...it...

_ “Eat up more  _ _ Keithy _ _ -cat, you’ve got to keep your strength up,” _

Eomma ...

Forcing back the tears that threatened to fall, he reached for the chopsticks and started eating. It was good,  really good , and he  couldn’t stop. He  didn’t even care if he looked a mess and was  probably scaring the two with how fast he was scarfing down the food. He just wanted to feel...he...he wanted to feel something  _ good _ .

He  couldn’t help the tear that escaped. Brushing it aside with his upper arm, he continued eating, taking in the salty and spiciness of the sliced chicken. It had been boiled first, and then seasoned, and the steamed rice was soaked perfectly in the broth. He closed his eyes and imagined his  eomma and  appa sitting in before him at their home table, eating alongside him. 

“Slow down,” Shiro’s voice mixed with his fathers memory, who held a hand out to him, a smile on his face, eyes sparkling. “You’re going to choke if you eat that quickly,  _ Keithy _ _ -cat _ ,”

He  didn’t pay any heed to his memories mixing with reality. Instinctively, he knew there was something wrong with him, that he was blurring his thoughts, his memories, the good times. But he just  couldn’t help it. It had been so long since he had felt this warm, this happy, this safe.

He  didn’t want it to end.

**_ You’re _ ** **_ only kidding yourself. They will kick you out as soon as  _ ** **_ you’re _ ** **_ done. _ **

The monster was still here, still clawing at him but Keith caught on to one phrase and stuck to it.

_...we should adopt him... _

Keith stopped, looking up at Adam, seeing him gazing up at Shiro, thinking to him rather than speaking  out loud . But Keith heard it, loud and clear. They wanted...they... 

“You want to adopt me?”

Shiro froze, mid ladling more of the warm and hearty broth for Adam and turned to Adam. For a moment, Keith thought they were going to have a fight. But Shiro’s tense shoulders relaxed and he shook his head and his attention returned to Keith.

“There’s no point keeping anything from you, is there?” He murmured, mostly to himself, but loud enough for Keith to hear. He settled onto his seat – once he made sure Adam had enough food himself – and held Keith’s gaze. “We’re thinking about it, we’d  _ love  _ to have you, but...we’ve only just met, and in the end, it’s your decision.”

_ We want you...but you  _ _ don’t _ _ know me. Get to know us both and decide if you want to stay. _

Keith sucked in a breath. He  wasn’t sure what to think. On the one hand, he wanted, _oh_ , how he wanted. But on the other hand, Shiro was right. Keith may know Adam, and that was only as him being Adam’s patient, not as anything else. But Keith  didn’t know a thing about Shiro. Other than what he could tell, and what he heard from Adam.

“Can. .. can I think about it?” he asked, hoping this  wasn’t a onetime opportunity.

“Of course, there is no rush.” Adam said, reaching a hand out to place over Keith’s own. “No matter what you choose, we will still be friends. Nothing will change, okay?”

Keith nodded, settled back into the food. He  couldn’t help but smile.

Someone wanted him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**  
>  eomma - mother/mum  
> appa - father/dad


	13. Stardust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my!  
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos!  
> It really makes my day to read them, I will get back to all of you, I promise!
> 
> You have made me so happy, so I hope this chapter shows you what you all mean to me!

Lance didn’t like waiting.

He may have the patience of a saint. Okay, so the whole manipulating time thing could help him with that, though he wasn’t able to speed up time, he did have a clear understanding that sometimes you needed to savour the moments you did have.

But this was probably the seventh time today that he had stood outside of Prof. Shiro’s door, seeing the silhouette of the large man in the room through the distorted glass, hand raised ready to knock, but chickening out at the last minute.

He didn’t like waiting.

Letting out a sigh, he dropped his hand to his side and stepped away from the door once again. Leaning back against the wall next to the door. He slumped down on the ground, holding a hand to his aching heart. He had been in this weird limbo for the better half of the past month now. Ever since he had seen Dr. Wasti and that boy. His head was constantly telling him one thing, and his heart telling him another.

Actually, no, that wasn’t quite right. Both his head and heart wanted the same thing, they just wanted him to go about it in different ways. The battle was getting tiring, and he just wanted it to end. But they all fixated on one thing.

The boy.

Who was he? Why was he with Dr. Wasti? And more importantly, why did he feel so familiar to Lance? No, not...not familiar. But not...not. He wasn’t making any sense. It wasn’t like he _knew_ the boy, or knew him from before and just forgot – which would have been a damn shame, because Lance was _damn sure_ he’d never forget a pretty boy like him – it was...it was like he...like he _knew_ him. On like a molecular level.

When he was younger, his papi had told him that they were all created from stardust. Before the earth, the universe, was created, we were all stardust in space, waiting to be made, to be moulded, waiting for our purpose. When God created the universe, he used that same dust to create us, he gave them their purpose. The world around us, the stars in the skies, the seas, the sun, the people. He had created the people. And those who were close when they were star dust, from the same stardust, would gravitate towards one another regardless.

Maybe we’d never meet our stardust, maybe we would. His papi had told him how he knew for sure, he and his mami were created from the same stardust. He had said he had felt it in his very soul. His heart had ached, disastrous supernovas erupting in him whenever he saw her. But he had said he didn’t want it any other way. He loved her; he’d go to the ends of the universe for her.

Soulmates, his papi had told him. His mami was his papi’s soulmate. His stardust.

Lance needed to know. Was the boy his stardust?

What the hell was wrong with him?

Running his hands roughly down his face, he thudded his head back against the wall. He was getting a little too ahead of himself. Though he couldn’t deny what he felt – what was the point anyway, it wasn’t like anything was going to come out of it – he couldn’t do anything about it.

These past three weeks, Lance would insist on walking to school, telling his mami that he preferred walking in the sunshine, seeing the people, the sights, taking in everything around him. Though in reality, he would walk down the plaza, passed Dr. Wasti’s office building, across the street to the park and try to scope out the boy.

Some days, usually on Tuesday and Thursdays, and sometimes over the weekend, he noticed the boy wasn’t there. Dr. Wasti wasn’t out having breakfast in the park. So, Lance wouldn’t wait too long in the park on those days. But every other day, he would slow his pace along the worn cobblestone, gazing around as he tried to find him.

Sometimes they’d be sitting in the same spot as before, underneath the blossom tree, eating something, or talking about something. There were times where the boy would be reading intently, while Dr. Wasti would lean back and people watch.

Sometimes they were by the fountain, the boy with his pretty grey-purple eyes concentrated, intense, as if he were focusing on listening in to everything around him, while Dr. Wasti kept watch. It was those times where Lance mostly liked to manipulate time to a standstill, make his way over to the boy and watch him. He had a somewhat possessive love for looking into those beautiful eyes, trying to figure out just what the colour was. There wasn’t any way to describe them, other than ‘galactic’. Like a whole entire galaxy was sucked into those eyes. The way his pupils were dilated, large and sublime, like black holes eating away at the galaxy purple.

Sometimes, he’d stay there for a good few minutes; wishing it was hours, just taking in his face, the slight upturned nose, the darkness around his eyes, the way his cheeks were puffed up now, a lot more so than when Lance had first seen him. He looked a lot healthier now as well, a little less _sick._

His mami always saw right through him. She’d give him that knowing look whenever he grabbed his bag and kissed her on the cheek as a farewell. She’d know when he turned the corner out of their house and into the streets. She’d know, and she’d be there for her mijo when he came to her, telling her he had found his stardust. When he brought the one, he was infatuated with home.

Shaking his head, his thoughts returned to that very morning. And the strangeness of it all.

It was a Friday, so he knew Dr. Wasti and the boy would be at the fountain today – no, he had not been watching...it...it wasn’t like he was stalking...well... - Lance had told his mother he was going to walk to school. She had stopped him, holding his arm and handed him a small square shaped box. She placed her hand on top of his and had told him to give it to _them._

He had opened the small box, eyes widening when he saw what was sitting inside. A simple red chain bracelet with a small five spoked star. Two of the star sides had the words ‘my stardust’ engraved onto them. It looked beautiful, sitting in the clothed plush of the box.

He hadn’t had the chance to be shocked, before she was herding him out of the door, telling him he was going to be late.

He had shoved the bracelet into his pocket and, still shocked, waved goodbye to his mother and made his way down the streets and into the park plaza, like he did every day. He had forgotten all about the box in his pocket – okay, so not fully forgot, more like pushed it to the back of his mind – and made his way deeper into the park.

He noticed Dr. Wasti and the boy sitting in their usual spot near the fountain, Dr. Wasti was leaning back, looking up at the trees shading them, a small smile on his face as he spoke about something or another. He saw the boy next, leaning forward, hands on his knees, facing down to the cobblestone at his feet.

Without having to think, Lance stopped time, not caring to pay attention to the way the world slowed down, like he usually would. Once he was sure he was safe, he made his way over to the boy. Kneeling on the ground, he noticed the bloodshot eyes, the small tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“You’re crying again,” he murmured, knowing the boy would never say anything back. He wanted to reach out for him, to hold him close and tell him everything was going to be okay. Lance would do anything to make sure he wouldn’t cry.

His heart beating faster and faster, he gazed up into those pretty eyes, seeing the same cosmic beauty look back at him.

“You shouldn’t, you know,” he murmured, whispering against him as he dared to get closer. “I’d do anything to see you smile, _mi polvo de estrellas,_ ”

Mind made up – though, he still thought it was such a dumb idea to do so, now that he thought about it – he reached into his pocket and pulled out the jewellery box.

“You don’t know how much this means to me,” he murmured, holding the box to his chest. “And you’ll probably just think that someone dropped it, or you might not even notice it. You probably won’t even wear it, but I really wish you would,”

He placed the box in the space between his feet, offering his entire heart to a boy who still didn’t even know he had been watching him. But something compelled Lance to do it. He was too cowardly to show himself, too pathetic and worthless to even touch him, to say hello, to do anything other than stop time and watch him.

But he left it, at his feet, hoping, wishing and wanting for him to wear it, to understand what it meant.

“This is my heart, _mi estrellas,_ you know,” Lance tried, running his fingers over the plush of the box. “I wish I could see you for real, I really am trying, you know.” 

He sighed. He really was trying. He had tried to speak with Shiro, tried to figure out a way to at least find out this boys’ name. But he couldn’t. He...he was scared. What if this was just fleeting, what if he thought Lance was creepy, or stupid. What if...what if he found out about the time stopping and sent him away?

Lance shook his head. He wouldn’t do that...would he?

Then again, Lance didn’t really know him. At all in fact. But he was going to. By hell was he going to. “I’m going to try harder,” he settled, slapping his hands on his knees. “I’d really like for some cosmic power to have you pick this up, know it's yours, and wear it forever. Maybe we could be like those movies, where you like... _know_ what it means without me having to tell you,” -- he chuckled weakly -- “or you can just throw it away,”

He stood up then, knowing he needed to leave, otherwise he’d stay here forever.

“I will see you soon, _mi polvo de estrellas,_ ,” he knelt down closer, just wanting to take in his beauty for a little longer, knowing this was the one thing that got him through the long and hard days. “Please wait for me,” 

His eyes widened when he spotted the corner of the boys’ lips twitch a little, rising up at the corners. Just a little, like he was fighting the hold, like he was able to...like he _knew_ Lance was there.

Did he?

He was smiling, through his teary, bloodshot eyes, he was smiling. Smiling for Lance.

Heart stuttering, Lance grinned, couldn’t help but laugh happy tears and got up to his feet. “You...you’re smiling. You...do you...do you know I’m here? No one else...no one...yet, _you! Lo sabía, tú eres eso! Mi polvo de estrellas!_ I’m going to come for you, you understand? Please wait for me, _mi vida, please!_ ” 

And with that promise, he got up, returned to his spot, taking one last glance at the smiling boy and felt his heart soar.

He was going to speak to Shiro today and get to the boy. No matter what.

The door to Shiro’s office opened, breaking Lance out of his memory. He looked up to see the professor looking down at him, motioning him into the room.

Shiro’s voice was wavering, as he closed the door behind them. His eyes were bright, and there was a smile on his face. He looked up to Lance and grinned wider.

“I’ll help you,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**  
>  "Mi polvo de estrellas" - "My stardust"  
> "Lo sabía, tú eres eso! Mi polvo de estrellas!" - "I knew it, its you! My stardust!"  
> "Mi vida" - my life (a term of endearment)


	14. Soulmate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all soooooooooo much for your love and comments and kudos.  
> It means the absolute world to me! Makes me want to write more and more!
> 
> Alright, let's get a little more into it, shall we?  
> May the cuteness and fluff...commence!

The familiar text notification of a kiss sound broke through Adam and Keith’s conversation. 

Eyes widening, Adam apologised to Keith. He only ever kept his phone on in case of emergencies. No one ever texted him during work house, and Shiro knew never called or texted Adam when he was with a client. It was so unprofessional. But Adam felt like he should pick up his phone and see what was happening. It must be serious for Shiro to do something like this. Keith had given him a look, and a nod, and let him get to his call. 

Adam apologised again and reached for his phone in the drawer in his desk. Swiping at the screen he noticed a new text message. Looking at it, he frowned. 

_‘Bring Keith home with you...I have a surprise for him?’_

Huh. It wasn’t too uncalled for, for him to be taking clients outside of the office – he did it constantly with Keith. They had come back from their second session for the day, having gone to the nearest shopping district, rather than the park, to get Keith used to the sights and sounds of people milling about in a different, enclosed setting. 

He had been so in awe with the stores and shops, so much had changed for him in the last four years, so many new stores and shops, so many people. He had been a bit vehement at first, grabbing onto Adam’s arm tightly, shoving his face into his back to try and muffle the sounds. But after a long while, he finally peered up, taking the pretzel Adam had offered him, and started to actually have a good time. 

Why Shiro wanted Keith to come home with them...it didn’t make sense. And Adam wasn’t going to go further and call him to find out. He still had Keith with him, and Keith was still technically a client! 

He placed the phone down and returned to work. His thoughts were interrupted by Keith though, speaking wistfully. 

“Hey Adam...” 

Adam hummed and turned from the paperwork he had received of Keith’s latest scans, to Keith himself, seeing the boy sitting on his usual seat in his office, sunken in the soft plush, leaning back, looking relaxed. Except this time, he was looking at something on his wrist, examining it with half lidded eyes and a small smile, like he was lost in a sweet memory. Upon closer inspection, Adam noticed it was a bracelet he was looking at, a simple red two chained thing with a star in the centre. Though it was hard to see anything with just how much he was lovingly touching it. 

He had been doing that all day. _When had he gotten that bracelet?_

With the way Keith was looking at it, almost reverently, Adam knew it was something extremely important, similar to the shoes Keith was wearing, the faded red canvas shoes, with their frayed laces and split seamed back. But she shoes were old, weathered and worn. Adam had found out, from Shiro, that those shoes were from his parents, the only thing he had from them before their utter demise. He was still too young to get anything else out of the will or the inheritance. He was to get that when he was old enough. 

Not that that meant anything to Adam, he could only imagine what it would have been like for Keith in the first few years after his parents’ death. It had taken a long while, but Keith had opened up to him and told him about wicked aunts and uncles – none of whom were blood related – who wanted to keep Keith, to keep him until he was old enough to get his inheritance and then keep the money and valuables and throw him away. 

Sometimes Adam’s heart ached for Keith, especially when he could imagine a boy of eight years old, hearing people say such sweet and warm and kind things to his face, yet think of such sick and lecherous thoughts. His poor Keith. 

He wanted to take those shoes, to make them all brand new and put them up on a pedestal for Keith. He wanted those shoes, the last thing Keith had of his family for now, to be a good memory. Something he could look at, touch and feel, and have good memories about. But right now, they looked like they were a gust of breeze away from splitting from the seams and completely breaking. 

Kids grew so quickly in four years, especially at this time, and those shoes were still sized for an eight year old Keith, not a twelve, going thirteen year old, kid. 

_We could probably find those glass boxes and put it up somewhere for him to see._

But the bracelet...well, there was still a shine to it. It looked pristine, new. Pretty. And it obviously meant a lot to Keith. So much that he hadn’t been able to stop touching he had arrived at his office that morning. It was like his attention was transfixed on it. 

“Do you know what ‘mi...mi polvo....de estreyas’ means?” he asked, butchering the pronunciation. But that didn’t seem to deter him. His fingers were running over the twin chains so softly, so sweetly. It made a warm part of Adam swell with so much pride. 

_Was...was Keith...did he have a crush on someone?_

Clearing his quietened thoughts, he though to try and answer Keith’s question. “Is that Spanish?” 

“I...I think so?” Keith replied, not looking up from the shiny jewellery, like he was entranced by it. “He has...he has darker skin than yours and... he’s really pretty...” His wistful look suddenly hardened, eyes wide and cheeks burning a bright red. His head shot up and he looked at Adam. “I mean! I don’t know, I just heard it and... and...” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Adam made his way to him, kneeling down in front of him and holding a hand to his own, getting a closer look at the bracelet itself. It was really pretty, and there was an engraving on it 'my stardust'. Cute. “You know I don’t mind if you’re gay, right? I mean I’m kind of _engaged_ to a man.” 

“I’m not...I can’t...what do...I... it’s not like...” Keith sputtered, his mouth opening and closing like a cute little fish, cheeks burning a shade darker and eyes darting away in his embarrassment. He tried to say something more coherent, but no noise was coming out of his mouth anymore. 

Adam shook his head, patting Keith on his hand. “Okay, okay. Let’s not get too overexcited, shall we? I can ask Eva, the receptionist, she must know,” 

He called the front desk, the receptionists voice breaking the simmer in the room. _A crush! His Keith has a crush! And the boy gave him jewellery! How serious is this! Should I... should I have the talk with him? No, he’s only twelve, Adam! The talk won’t come until much later._

Keith’s red face and puffed up cheeks from his embarrassment made him all the cuter. It was a damn shame Adam didn’t have a camera. His attention was taken by the sound of his receptionist greeting him.

“Eva, I have a bit of an odd translation question for you,” he said, leaning in a little closer to the speakers of the phone. 

Eva’s voice was just as chipper as usual. “What’s up, Adam? I’m happy to help,” 

“Okay, apologies for the mispronunciation, but do you know what ‘mi polvo...” - he paused, asking Keith to remind him of the phrase again. - “... ‘mi polvo de estrayas’ means?” 

Eva gasped, “Mi polvo de estrallas?” she replied, her pronunciation spot on. Keith nodded, and Adam affirmed it. “It means ‘my stardust’. It's like a soulmate thing? Like ‘we’re all made of the same stardust'. That’s really sweet and romantic! Did Shiro call you that?” 

“Not me,” he chuckled, the engravings making a whole lot of sense now. He grinned, seeing how Keith’s eyes widened, mouth agape. His hand clasped around the bracelet, holding his arm pressed to his chest. “Thanks Eva, you’ve helped us out a whole lot,” 

“Not a problem,” 

Adam felt giddy. He couldn’t contain his excitement! 

_KEITH HAD A SOULMATE! Someone had literally given him jewellery and said he was his soulmate! Is he someone from the House? Hmm, maybe not. He doesn’t seem to have any good memories from there. So maybe it’s someone else? Have they been on a date yet? Have they even kissed yet? Oh my god! Soulmate jewellery! That’s like...a promise, right? OH MY GOD! His little Keith was dating and in a serious relationship, and then they’d get married, and Shiro could walk him down the aisle, and oh, I’m going to cry so hard! And they’d live happily ever after! Oh god...I have to think of wedding ideas—_

“A-Adam! S-stop! You’re...you’re thinking too far ahead! I just...I... he gave me this bracelet and I think he’s really nice, okay, that’s all.” Keith stammered, bottom lip protruding out in a cute pout. _He’s just so adorable! His first little crush! Red would be a great colour scheme...or blue..._ “Adam! Quit teasing me!” 

He grinned, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” he returned to his seat on the opposite side of the desk, but couldn’t help but smile. 

_His little Keith was just too adorable!_

“Adam!” Keith’s exasperated voice was just as cute. 

Honestly, Adam was ready to adopt him, to call him his own. They may have only known one another for just over three months. But in those three months he had seen Keith open up so wonderfully. He was such a vulnerable and sweet kid. Hot headed, yes, but so kind. Adam felt it in his very skin that he should be doing something about taking him in. That Keith should be with them, that Keith _belonged i_ n his family, with him and Shiro. 

But at the end of it all, it was all on Keith. 

It was always going to be Keith’s decision. He wasn’t going to push him. Keith was old enough to decide for himself what he wanted. And even if he didn’t choose to come into their family, then Adam wouldn’t fault him. He would still be his therapist, his _friend,_ and help him as much as he could. 

“You really mean that?” 

Keith’s voice was whisper soft, his gaze back at the bracelet, pressing it against his skin, as if he wanted it to indent it, like he wanted it to stay there. Maybe he did. This was the first time Adam had seen that bracelet after all. It probably meant the world to him. _Oh goodness...he was crushing so hard._

Keith gave him a hard look, but Adam didn’t care. “Let me bask in it,” he grumbled under his voice, knowing Keith could hear him. His focus instead returned to the question the boy had asked. “Yes, I do mean it. I’d be _so happy_ if you decided to stay with me and Shiro, but if you didn’t, nothing between us would change,” 

Keith sat there, in silence, his thoughts running a mile a minute. Adam didn’t say anything, just waited patiently for him to sort through his thoughts. He was clever boy, he was probably thinking about everything that had conspired between them, with Shiro, with the House, with his life. 

Adam really wished he had their superpowers at that moment. But he didn’t want to intrude on him and his thoughts. He wanted Keith to be completely impartial, he wanted Keith to come to him, to come to them. He’d give the boy the world if he asked for it. 

After what seemed like hours of tension, but what was mere minutes, Keith finally looked up at him. His expression serious, his back straight and his hands on his lap – though one was calmly covering and playing with the chain of his bracelet – this was Keith’s serious face, the one that meant business. 

Adam copied in kind, trying to look as calm and cool as possible, though his insides were caught tight, tense. He didn’t imagine trying to adopt would be this frightening, this thrilling. 

“I...” Keith started, and Adam leaned forward on bated breath. “I think...no I know...I...” 

“Deep breaths, Keith. We’re in a safe space, remember?” 

Keith nodded, taking in a deep breath. He looked up directly into Adam’s eyes and nodded again, most likely to himself. Hands clenching at the edges of the seat, he leaned forward a little more. 

“Will you and Shiro adopt me, please?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo!  
> Keith is going to be adopted!
> 
>  **Translations**  
>  Mi polvo de estrellas - my stardust (but we already knew that!)


	15. Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling a bit down today, so I thought I'd write something sweet.  
> Hope you like!

Shiro held the phone to his ear with a tight grip, knuckles white as he listened to the sweet sound of his fiancé telling him the good news.

Keith...wanted them to adopt him.

His eyes widened in disbelief, this had to be a dream, right? He’d only seen Keith a total of one time, just once, where he had manhandled him and then tried his hardest to take care of him, to understand him. There was a kinship between them, something that they seemed to share on some kind of molecular level maybe.

Maybe it was because they shared the same powers? Or maybe it was something else, something that they both felt that drew them together. It had been strange when Shiro had first seen him, hugging a sick Adam for dear life, calling out to him, bawling his eyes out. Like a child crying for their mother.

Shiro had just reacted, dragging what looked like a threat away from his fiancé. But after reading his thoughts – which had been screaming out loud at him – Shiro could easily see that Keith was anything but a threat, he was just a poor boy who had lost his family. Someone who had had everything near and dear to him ripped away from him so quickly and so suddenly.

Someone who needed love and attention.

His heart had ached for the boy. He had listened to everything Adam had told and thought to him about Keith, about what had happened to him, what he was going through. Adam had tried to keep impartial, tried to keep Keith at arm's length, like he did with the rest of his clients, but as soon as he had seen the little pale and frail boy with the scruffy shoes and too big clothes, sitting on his chair, he had been enamoured and hooked on making things right for him.

Shiro could understand that feeling.

Seeing him sitting there on the sofa, eyes bloodshot, sunken cheeks ruddy, and lips trembling. Heard those awful, awful things running around in his head. He had gathered the boy up in his arms and promised the world to him.

He and Adam had talked about this, about their future, and what would happen if Keith were in it. They had spent a few nights going over the plan, figuring out how they could try and get Keith to consider saying yes to them adopting him.

He had not expected Keith to ask, for _Keith_ to be the one to step up, knowing how hard it must be for him, to ask such an important, life altering question. Expecting them to say no, only for them to say yes. _Of course, they’d say yes!_ He already knew Adam was screaming yes to the boy, bundling him up in his arms and petting at his hair as he spoke sweetly to him. About how brave Keith was, how proud he was of them.

Adam had called him up straight away to tell him the good news. He could still hear Keith murmuring something or another to Adam, but he himself couldn’t contain his excitement.

“He...he wants us to be his parents?” He asked, voice barely a whisper, still disbelieving it.

“Yup!” Adam hummed happily, and Shiro knew he had Keith in his arms, stroking at his hair. “Want to hear it from him?”

“Y-yeah, please?” 

He heard the phone being handed away, and heard Keith clear his throat. “Mr. Shiro?” -- Shiro felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. This was...this was going to be his _son!_ “I know this is sudden... a-and you said to wait until I got to know you and stuff, but I _do_ know you, and I really...I... please, will you adopt me?”

“Yes!” His cry shocked even himself, but he composed himself. “Keith, I would be honoured to...to be one of your fathers,”

“Okay. Good.” His voice sounded stilted, but happy. Shiro beamed, this was his _son! His son!_ They stayed silently on the phone for a few moments longer, trying to let what had just happened sink in, before Keith cleared his throat again. “I’m going to go now...give the phone to Adam.” 

“Shiro!” Adam’s voice was full of happiness when the phone was handed back to him, “We...we need to celebrate...or-or something. I...we should _do something! We’re going to be fathers!”_

“Yeah, okay. We can—we'll do something. Together.” Shiro couldn’t help the smile on his face, adding quietly. “As a family.”

“I’ll get all the paperwork sorted, talk to the House and – aww, Keith, _meri jaan_ , you don’t have to worry about that place anymore, you’re going to be ours now! -- and...oh Shiro! I am so happy!” Adam was gushing. Shiro’s grip on the phone tightened, there was still some hurdles they’d have to jump over to finally have Keith officially be theirs, but they were going to do it. They were going to go all the way.

Keith deserved it. He deserved so much more. But this was going to be their start.

“I’ll bring Keith...I’ll...bring Keith _home,_ " - Shiro’s smile widened at that. Keith’s home was going to be with them – “as soon as we’re done,”

Shiro nodded, saying his goodbyes, and I love yous, and ended the call. He put the phone down on his desk and let out a breath. He still couldn’t believe it. Keith had actually said yes. He had heard it from his own mouth! He had wanted them to adopt him.

“Congratulations, Prof. Shiro,”

Oh, Shiro had almost forgotten about Cadet McClain.

Looking up, he saw the Cuban cadet sitting in front of him, eyes just as shiny as Shiro’s own. He held a hand to his heart and was basking in the same happiness Shiro was. He overheard just how happy Lance was for him, how much Shiro deserved it. 

“Thank you, Lance,” Shiro replied, gripping the corner of his desk, not knowing how to reign in the adrenaline coursing through him. He wanted to get up onto the desk and scream it to the world. But he refrained himself.

 _‘He looks so happy! It’s actually so adorable.’_ Lance’s thoughts grounded Shiro somewhat, made him think of another way he could make Keith happy. The boy deserved the world. And if Shiro’s premonitions were correct – and they always were – then Lance was going to be a very important person in Keith’s life. ‘ _He should probably spend some time with his new family. We can do this whole thing another time then. I don’t think it’d be right for me to impose on the two.’_

Lance got up then, reaching for his bag. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you—”

“Ice cream,” Shiro stated suddenly, breaking Lance from his thoughts. “We should all get ice cream, what place do you recommend?”

“Oh...uhhh...” Lance pondered for a moment, “Marmora Café does some pretty good desserts, I always go there with Hunk whenever we need to celebrate something,”

“Alright then,” Shiro nodded, packing his things up quickly, shoving his things into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “You okay if we make a quick pit stop to Marmora Café beforehand?”

“ _We?_ ” Lance asked, grabbing for his bag and following he beaming man out of the office. He was still confused as Shiro locked his office door and ushered him out of the empty school building and to his car.

“Well, yeah,” He stumbled, putting his bag into the back seat. He peered up over the car to see Lance standing there, fiddling with the strap of his bag. “You still want to meet Adam, right? To know more about the...boy?”

The blatant blush on Lance’s face reminded Shiro of when he was younger, still pining over whether Adam actually cared for him more than a patient. 

“W-well, yeah.” He stammered, twisting his fingers as a distraction. “But...with...you know, the whole adoption thing—”

Shiro placed a hand on the roof, trying to give Lance a calm and careful look. He wanted to keep it all a surprise, after all. He didn’t want to give anything away. He had texted Adam before explicitly for this. With Keith home, he’d bring Lance over and they’d finally meet. They could both finally be happy!

They could go from there however they wanted, but Shiro wanted Keith to be happy, and he was kind of also immensely invested in Lance and his future. The kid was bright, he was definitely going places, and with his premonitions, he knew with these two together, they were going to go forth and do great things.

He just had to get them there.

“Come on,” Shiro stated, “I want you to be there too,”

Lance nodded, steeling his breath, and opened the car door. Shooting a quick text to his mami and to Hunk and Pidge, he buckled his seat belt, and together, they made their way to Marmora for desserts, and then to Prof. Shiro’s home.

He hoped he could find out more about the boy today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**  
>  meri jaan - my life (more a term of endearment, you can say this to your children, or lover)


	16. Meet-Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your lovely comments and kudos.  
> This is it, Lance and Keith are going to meet.

The ice cream was a chilly reminder of what Lance was going to do today.

Prof. Shiro – please just call me Shiro – had driven as calmly and as quickly as possible to Marmora Café, ordered the biggest and grandest looking dessert – the ‘Birthday Extravaganza’. The container was massive, fitting all of Lance’s lap, Lance’s eyes had widened when  Thace – the owner of Marmora Café, had told them just what went in the dessert, twelve large scoops of ice cream in a literal bed of waffles, with over twenty toppings, including whipped cream, sprinkles, syrups, white and dark chocolate shavings, wafers and cookie dough bites, hot fudge, pieces of cake – red velvet, which was Keith’s favourite apparently – the list went on. 

And all of it, as Shiro had asked a few times to make sure – was lactose free.

His fingers were turning numb, but he could feel the ice cream was getting a little soft sitting carefully on his lap. He had wrapped his arms around the box to make sure it didn’t spill. He didn’t want any of the hard work the guys at Marmora had done to be ruined.

Thankfully, they had made it to Shiro’s home. Which had been a big surprise for Lance. He hadn’t known Shiro lived literally a few streets away from him. When he had made a turn into the neighbourhood, Lance had thought Shiro was going to drop him home. But after a few more twists and turns – most which he recognised as being where Pidge lived – they had stopped in front of the beautiful suburban house.

He could literally walk home if he wanted to. That was...weird.

“We’re here,” Shiro stated out loud, a little oddly. But Lance could understand how nervous he might be. After everything that was happening, there was going to be a new person living in this house. Someone who would call Shiro father.

Why Lance was here, he didn’t know. But he was here now, and that was just how it was going to be. And, he thought to himself, if it got awkward or if he felt like he was intruding on their time, he could just go home.

Not like he lived that far.

Okay, he was nervous too. But a different kind of nervous. He wasn’t putting any hopes up on the real reason for his trip to the house. There was going to be no way he was finding out who the boy was, he didn’t think he’d even get a chance to bring it up with the two. 

But Shiro wanted him here. For whatever reason. Most likely because he wanted everyone to bask in his happiness, and Lance wouldn’t refuse that. So, he followed Shiro into the house, holding onto the ice cream with a tight grip.

He held back a giggle when Shiro fumbled with the house keys, hands shaking too much to be able to slot the key in properly. He praised him when he was successful, and waited as the door was pushed open.

“Honey, I’m home!” Shiro called out, making Lance smile. He hadn’t ever seen this side of Shiro. It was actually really adorable.

The house was silent, no one replied to his call.  _ Huh, no one must be home yet. _ That was a shame, he was hoping to try and get  Dr. Wasti’s attention somehow before the celebrations, but that could wait. Maybe today just wasn’t the day.

“Let’s put the ice cream in the fridge?” he offered, following Shiro as they made their way to the kitchen. He pulled the door and rearranged a few things before taking the box from Lance and putting it into the shelf. Closing the door with a thud, Shiro leaned his head on the door, letting out a few breaths.

He still looked so nervous, but there was a bright smile on his face.

“You...uh...doing okay there?” Lance asked.

Shiro looked up, his eyes shining and his grin just as wide. “Yeah, just...I kind of wanted them to be here already,”

“I can understand that,” Lance offered, placing a supportive pat on his broad back. He took a look around the kitchen, seeing it was rather clean, smelling of Asian spices, like they were embedded into the walls themselves. He grinned, the kitchen kind of reminded him of his own kitchen at home.

“Have you told your mother where you are?” Shiro asked, as if he had heard what Lance was thinking.

Confused, Lance nodded. “Y-yeah, I texted her before we left. I only live two streets away,”

“Okay, good.”

“Shiro,” Lance placed a hand on his back, trying to convey his support and care. Shiro was someone he admired, a great role model. Hell, when Lance had found out Shiro was gay, it had given him hope and courage to come out to his family and friends that he was bisexual. Takashi  Shirogane was amazing. And he didn’t want to see him so...nervous. “You doing okay? Like...I get you’re nervous, and I don’t really know what you’re going through, but like...you can talk to me?”

Shiro sucked in a breath, pushing away from the fridge and pulling it open. Taking out a few cans of pop, he handed one to Lance and motioned him to sit down on the bar stools on the island. He leaned on the worktop opposite Lance, cracking the can open and wishing the drink was a little stronger than pop. But he didn’t drink alcohol, Adam didn’t either due to his religion, but Shiro hated the taste of it.

Maybe he could just get high off the sugar rush. That usually helped.

Lance wasn’t sure what he should do. On the one hand, he had been thinking about leaving. No matter what Shiro said, he was intruding on an important family thing. Emotions were currently running so high for all of them.

But on the other hand, Shiro was in need of someone right now. Lance couldn’t just leave him like this. He looked like he needed support while he waited. So, he pulled the tab of the drink and sat more comfortably on the bar stool, taking a sip and wondering if he should fill the silence with something.

He really wished he could forward time, if only to help Shiro with his nerves.

“About that.” Shiro’s voice piped up. He placed the drink on the tiled worktop and leaned heavily on it. His dark eyes bored into Lance’s own, as if he were reading his very thoughts, his very soul. “I. ..I know what you can do,”

_ Wait _ _...what? _ Lance tried to chuckle, nerves settling in and stretching wide. No, that wasn’t possible. He couldn’t know. Lance was always so careful. Sure, he had done it once or twice during test time, just so he could have a few minutes to get rid of his nerves, and yeah, there had been that one time where he had been about to have a panic attack, or that one time where he...

_No, no, no, no, no!_ He was always so careful. His grip tightened on the edge of the table, eyes wide and breath coming out in quick, sharp pants. _Oh god, oh, god. What was he going to do? Was he going to kick him out of school? Was he going to tell his mother? Was he going to call the police? Ay dios, ¡No puedo hacer esto! Mamá me va a matar, No me pueden echar de la escuela, ¿verdad? Ay dios mio,  I’m going to jail. Or be experimented on! ¡No me gustan las agujas! _

“Lance, just...calm down,” Shiro’s voice was soothing, he held his hands up in mock surrender. “I am not here to harm you, you’re not going to be experimented on, and I’m not calling the police, or telling your mother. Your secret is safe with me, I promise.”

Lance looked up. “How...” his eyes widened, and he slapped his hands on his head. “You can...you...read my thoughts?”

“You’re not as alone as you think,” Shiro said with a quaint smile.

He wanted to say more, but the sound of the front door opening interrupted them. Looking passed archway to the hallway leading to the front door, Shiro’s smile widened when he saw Adam and Keith enter the house, milkshakes in hand and smiles on their faces.

Lance’s gasp made this whole excursion worth it. 

_ ‘Mi polvo de estrellas!’ _

Lance was about to lose it. His breath caught in his throat.

Holy crap! This could not be real! He trailed his gaze over the boy's body in quick succession, taking in his long, dark hair, the ones he had imagined running his fingers through, his beautiful galaxy purple eyes, his pretty face with that defined jaw and high cheekbones.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him.

Dios he was so beautiful, such a rare beauty. And he was looking at Lance, eyes wide, almost sparkling in a way that should have been impossible. It was a small mercy that he looked as nervous as Lance felt.

He was...it was him.

Shaking his thoughts from his mind, Lance got up from the stool and followed Shiro as they made their way to the two. He fidgeted with his fingers, not knowing what to do. What did people do in this situation?

Why wasn’t he saying anything?

Shiro seemed to notice him and motioned for them to all sit in the living room. Lance was hesitant to move, but he sat down, looking down at his lap, or at anything except  _ him.  _

_ Stop time and you can ogle him all you want, but now that he’s in front of you, and you can’t even breathe!  _ He twisted his fingers until they started throbbing, nerves eating at his stomach.

“Thank you for joining us, Lance.” Adam said, his voice low and slow. Lance looked up at him, seeing him smile brightly.

Crap, did they expect him to talk? To tell them why he was here, infringing on their special time? What was he supposed to say? Shiro dragged him here? That wasn’t true. Fuck, he could barely breathe right now.

Ay dios, this was what he feared. He was finally in a room with the boy, being able to talk to him and have him actually talk back. But he was sure he was going to make a mess of himself. He didn’t want to do that! He needed to be suave, smooth, and...dios, he had practiced this! So many times. Practicing on what he would say when he finally met Keith, in front of his mirror. 

Just breathe. 

“H-hello, my names Lance, I...I guess congratulations on the adoption?” He wanted to say more, but his voice was stuck in his throat. Which was surprising, since he was usually the one people told to shut up. 

Very articulate Lance. 

Thankfully, Shiro took the reins of the conversation for him. He fiddled with the drink can in his hand. He didn’t hear anything they were saying though, it was as if he was in a trance. The boy leaned closer, peering through those sinfully long eyelashes.

“I waited...” he said quietly to Lance, as if he were hoping not to frighten him. As if it was just the two of them in the room. His voice was just as beautiful as he was. So deep, it reminded Lance of rolling thunder. Dios, he wanted to listen to him talk more. 

And that was when Lance noticed it. Sparkling on his wrist, just under the long sleeve of his too big shirt, but it made his heart soar. 

He was wearing the bracelet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**
> 
> "Ay dios, ¡No puedo hacer esto! Mamá me va a matar, No me pueden echar de la escuela, ¿verdad?" - "Oh god, I can't do this! Mom is going to kill me, they can't kick me out of school, right?"  
> "Ay dios mio!" - "Oh my god!"  
> "¡No me gustan las agujas!" - "I don't like needles!"


	17. Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Edits**  
>  Thank you to my dear Honeychu for the Japanese corrections!  
> I hope you can help me in the future!

Keith was dreaming.

He...he had to be, right? There was no way the boy was here, not his...not the one he... his hands ran over the bracelet chain, noticing the boys – _Lance’s_ \-- pretty blue eyes darted to it.

Keith had thought he had been a figment of his imagination, like a hallucination, or a beautiful illusion. How could he be anything else! He was so pretty, _beautiful_ even, with his dark skin and sea blue eyes. And his _voice, holy crap,_ Keith could listen to him talk for hours.

_‘...he’s wearing it! ...does that mean...no, he probably doesn’t know the significance of it, right? It’s so... I can’t believe he’s actually wearing it!’_

Lance’s thoughts were a jumbled up mess of emotions. So happy one moment, and so sad the next. Keith wanted to lean over and finally touch him, for once see if his skin was as soft and smooth as it looked. He had been watching from afar for so long.

_‘...maybe he just found it and...and like took it for his own. He doesn’t know what it means. He can’t. Right?’_

Keith didn’t like how sad he sounded, yet there was a smile on his face, forced but looking almost practiced. Was Lance used to this kind of feeling? Of faking happiness or nonchalance while his thoughts were raging inside him?

Not anymore. Not if Keith could help it.

He placed a hand on the table, sleeves dragging back with his stretch, to show the bracelet to the whole world. It sparkled joyfully in the slowly setting sunlight, and Lance’s eyes were drawn to it once again.

“I waited,” he repeated, hoping Lance would reply, or do something about it.

But Lance just sat there, gazing at the five spoked star shape, the twin red chains, against his pale skin and his thoughts went into overdrive.

_‘He...he really waited? He did...does that mean he knew I was there? Could he see me? Or maybe he just...felt me? Like those fantasy books. He...he knew, and he waited. He...he’s wearing the bracelet! I can’t believe it!’_

“Okay, so I can see this is going to go on for a bit,” Shiro’s voice was a low grumble, but it broke them from their stupor. He held his hand out to Adam, knowing his fiancé would probably want to know just what all of _that_ meant. “How about we have some ice cream to celebrate?”

He took the confused Adam’s outstretched hand and ushered him into the kitchen. He dropped his hand and made his way for the freezer, pulling it open and taking out the ice cream dessert. He placed it on the island worktop and leaned his hands on either side of the box.

Adam was confused, he reached out for Shiro, seeing the larger man leaning his head down and away from his gaze, his shoulders shaking. Was he crying? Placing a hand on his shoulder and rubbing small circles, he tried to soothe him.

But he wasn’t crying, Adam noticed the tears in his eyes, but there was a lovely smile on his face. He had been trying to hold back a laugh.

Shiro sucked in a deep breath and raised his head up to the ceiling, whispering harshly. “ _Mou! Gaman dekinai yo!_ They are so...so fucking adorable,”

Adam grinned, agreeing with him. As soon as the two had seen one another from across the hallway, they had been so lost in one another. It was so adorable.

“Our son is...he... _aa kami-sama_...the bracelet...and then Lance!” Shiro continued, turning and reaching out to Adam, grabbing hold of his shoulders and shaking his smaller frame slightly. He leaned in, needing to be closer to his fiance, needing for Adam to understand the words that just weren’t coming out of his mouth. He was so overwhelmed with everything that was happening, and then this!

“Lance is the mysterious pretty boy?” Adam asked, his eyes widening with glee. Remembering just how lost in his thoughts Keith had been with the new bracelet, the whole soulmates and stardust thing. “My moon, oh, _main yakeen nahi karsaktha! _Jaan,__ they are soulmates! _”_

“What?” And then Shiro saw the memory of the day Adam had with Keith, how the boy had been so infatuated with the bracelet, how he hadn’t done anything but touch it. When he had asked what ‘mi polvo de estrellas’  meant. How shocked yet so _happy_ he had been when he found out it mean ‘my stardust’, how it meant he had a soulmate.

Now everything started to make sense. “Lance...Lance can...” he leaned in closer to Adam, murmuring in his ear. “He can stop time...” -- Adam gasped, but it was short lived. He was surprised there were others out there that had secret superpowers, he knew that much. -- “That’s how he gave him the bracelet,”

Adam nodded, his thoughts returning to the weird looks Keith sometimes gave him, when Adam expected him to feel one way about something, but instead he’d feel happy and lost in thought. Adam usually never thought anything too bad about it. Keith was usually lost in thought sometimes, but he’d always come out with a smile. Adam had thought it was just him trying to remember _good things_ from his past.

Their last appointment, where they had gone out to the park, they had sat on the fountain. Adam had thought it would be a good idea to try and get Keith to open up a bit more about his past, and try to continue thinking of the _good things_ outside of his little bubble. 

He hadn’t expected Keith to start crying at the thoughts of his family lost. But it had been a start, crying was always refreshing, it was a good way to remember the past and work passed the bad to get to the good. That must have been when Lance had...stopped time...and given him the bracelet.

He had been talking to Keith about his own family, telling him about how his little sister was old enough and thinking about getting married, how his mother was all asunder about it, but had told her not to, not until he was married. How she would constantly call him – and he was sure she called Shiro too – about getting married. How...how he would be more than ecstatic to have Keith there with them.

Keith had been listening, but lost in his dark thoughts. His head buried in his hands, but he was humming and confirming he was listening. Adam knew that Keith sometimes just liked someone to talk to him while he worked through his emotions. So, continue he did.

Almost immediately, Keith had started smiling. He had lifted his head up and started laughing, until his eyes were bursting with the tears that had once been for sadness, until his breath was catching as he tried to take a lungful of air, until his cheeks were a ruddy red with his happiness.

Seeing him so happy had made Adam happy. He noticed Keith reach for something by his feet, but he had thought it may have been something he had dropped. Keith had pocketed it immediately, and his hands never left that pocket until well into their session back at the office.

“I think Lance has been doing it for a while,” Adam replied, just as quietly, melting into Shiro’s embrace, he was so happy, so content here. His lover was so happy, and his son was too... “Maybe he’s just been watching Keith, getting to know him?”

“Lance doesn’t have a threatening bone in his body,” Shiro stated clearly, in between chuckles. “I think Keith is in safe hands,”

There was a loud commotion from the other room, followed by something crashing to the ground with an audible thump. Both Adam and Shiro rushed to the room to see Lance on the ground at the corner of the room, Keith hovering over him, both looking to the pile of books that had fallen from the bookshelf.

Keith stilled; eyes wide as he slowly turned to the two entering the room. _‘Oh crap. They didn’t...see...did they? Great going Kogane...’_

Lance squeaked, and suddenly he was no longer underneath Keith, but to the other side of the room, holding onto the doorway leading into the hallway. He gave them one last look, squeaking adorably when his gaze landed on Keith.

“I’m going to go home now! Congrats again Shiro, Dr. Wasti, and thank you for having me!” He cried, and he rushed out of the room. Keith got up quickly, following Lance to the door.

“No Lance! I didn’t mind! Wai—” Keith cried, but it was too late. The front door closed behind his retreating form with a resounding thud. Lance nowhere to be seen. “-fuck!”

Keith ran a hand over his face, fingers stopping at his mouth, a smile rising on his lips and a faint pink rushing to the apples of his cheeks. It didn’t take a genius to know he had just been kissed.

Adam clenched at the door frame, shivering a little with confusion, but a teasing smirk on his lips. “So...what scandalous thing happened here?”

Keith's eyes perked up, as if noticing the other two were there. His cheeks were a brighter red with his embarrassment of being caught. He stiffly turned away, walking back to the living room. He sat down on the sofa and mechanically shouted. "So...who wants some ice cream!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the maybe-kiss deserves its own chapter. So prepare for that today or tomorrow!
> 
>  **Translations**  
>  "Mou!" - overall frustration, encapsulating "I can't take this/do this anymore!"   
> "Gaman dekinai yo!" - "I can't take it anymore!"  
> "Aa kami-sama" - "Oh god"  
> "main yakeen nahi karsaktha" - "I can't believe it"  
> "mi polvo de estrellas" - "my stardust"
> 
> It is so invigorating writing four different languages!


	18. First Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, so...yeah, here's today's chapter! (looks at the time...seeing its like five minutes to midnight) on time!  
> Hehe!
> 
> Honestly, I wrote, and rewrote this one quite a few times in order to get it to feel right. I'm still not completely happy with it, but I think its okay. Hope you all like it too!  
> It's been a long day, I'm going to bed now.
> 
> As the chapter title suggests.  
> Here is their first kiss...es!

_He was wearing it._

Keith looked as overwhelmed as Lance felt. But they sat there, just gazing at one another. Trying to figure out where to go from here. What where they supposed to do now?

His gaze focused on the boy. He looked so ethereal...Lance sucked in a breath, having to remember to do so. He felt his heart falter, something growing inside him, fit to burst. His breathing quickened, lips parted, eyes darting away from those strong, penetrating purple-grey eyes.

He didn’t understand this feeling within him, this overwhelming longing. Like he was craving his touch, craving his gaze. Oh, his gaze was so intense. Lance wondered if he could feel the electricity flowing between them, the tension and heat that was taking over. Those _eyes..._ they seemed to kiss his weary soul, calm the frustrated state he was in. Warmth tingled through his body, drugging him with something that was far more intoxicating than anything he had ever come across. They left him weak and shaking. There had to be something more, something primal, elemental. Something about him that was beyond the physical beauty. He lured Lance’s every desires.

_"Don’t look at anyone else like that. Only me."_

He saw Keith’s eyes widen, hands flexing in his lap, body leaning forward unconsciously, bringing them infinitesimally closer. So much closer that, if it weren’t for the god damn coffee table in the middle, they’d be able to touch one another. Lance had the right mind to climb over the table, wrap his arms around the smaller boy and pull him in.

Memories from the first time he had seen this boy flooded his senses. Seeing him sitting there looking so beautiful in the sunlight, shaded by the large tree. He had been smiling, looking so enthused by whatever Dr. Wasti had been feeding him. He had been so enamoured by him then, watching him look so wondrous. What would happen now that they were both here, both actually talking to one another. 

Now that he was actually able to touch him.

Keith was leaning in closer. Lance only wished he wouldn’t be able to hear just how hard and fast his heart was pounding. He was just getting closer and closer, his pretty grey-purple eyes hidden behind long, dark lashes. He looked so sinfully soft.

_So pretty._

_Warning!_ Lance’s head told him, he knew such high exposure to this boy would be hazardous to his health. He felt his breath come out in short gasps when Keith smiled shyly at him, gaze darting away, lashes so long and beautiful. How was he so beautiful!

He knew he was hyperventilating, internally moaning out Keith’s name. He had to make sure his mouth was closed tight, not wanting Keith – or Shiro now that he thought about it – to know just what was running through his head.

He almost swooned when he felt Keith’s fingers brush the back of his hand with the faintest of touches, as if he too was just as nervous and overwhelmed as Lance was. He felt like he was underwater, suffocating in the wonderful feeling of their hands touching. But instead of wanting to escape, to swim to the surface and be free. He wanted to drown.

He had fallen so hard, and he didn’t even know this boys’ name!

“Keith.” he said, breaking Lance’s thoughts free. “My name is Keith Kogane,”

Lance’s eyes widened, could...could Keith... be like Shiro? He could barely speak when he felt Keith’s hand lay over his own. He took in deep breaths, trying to calm his heart.

“I’m sorry for being so...weird,” he muttered, knowing if Keith could read his mind, he’d probably know everything he had been thinking about him. His cheeks burst a bright red in his embarrassment. “I’ve kind of been... watching you?”

The words came at Keith quickly, but he didn’t understand anything Lance had said, because in that moment Lance’s beautiful blue eyes met his own and for some unfathomable reason, he was lost. As cliché as it may sound, Lance was the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life. He had been dreaming of this moment, of when he would finally be able to talk to Lance without the pretence of the time manipulation. And now that he had it, he didn’t want to let go.

Keith adored listening to him, took in the words he said, the stories he told, everything he could give. He adored how Lance’s voice seemed to hold a rural, yet exotic accent to its whimsical lift. His eyes widened and his breath faltered.

 _“I really want to kiss you,”_ Lance’s eyes widened. He ran his hands nervously through his hair, dishevelling them into spikes. Keith’s heart skipped a beat. “I didn’t mean to...I mean I _do_ —but, I... we don’t have to... actually... forget it, I’m rambling.”

Keith wasn’t sure what was happening...no, that was a lie. He knew what he wanted, and he knew what Lance wanted. It was how they were here. Lance wanted to kiss him, and Keith...well, he was desperate for a taste too. Lance was too beautiful, his tanned skin exceptional. Keith had spent hours just watching him, frozen in time because of the boy. Lance had such a softness to him, yet at the same time, he held such _power._ Keith’s eyes wandered over his face, down to his lips, which looked so soft and inviting. 

“Lance...”

Keith whispered his name like a prayer, and Lance wanted to move that cursed hand away, the one that blessed him with such a wave of pleasure, the feeling throbbing endlessly through his veins. He felt like a defenceless kitten around this boy. Stripped down to his basic needs and desires. And he wanted more.

_I want to kiss him._

Keith wasn’t sure just who had thought that, but he was glad to know they were both feeling the same way. His eyes were wide and he felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. Lance gave him the sweetest of smiles, and he shivered when the boy moved closer. Lance turned his hand around and grabbed Keith’s own, lacing their fingers together. He heard the gasp croaking in the back of Keith’s throat and was glad to know the boy was feeling the same as he was.

Their hands were trapped together, fingers twined so closely. The sensation of that one simple touch floored Keith, he couldn’t describe it other than a sort of electricity. His fingers burned to run up and down Lance’s arm, to clutch that tall body to his own and take everything he wanted to give him.

“Can I...?” Lance asked quietly, pausing to try and figure out just what he wanted to say. What _did_ he want? To touch him more, to hold him close and pet his hair, to kiss him. But he couldn’t do that right? They didn’t know each other. Not really.

Keith nodded, as if he could instinctively tell what Lance wanted. Maybe he could read minds, just like Shiro could. Surprisingly, that didn’t worry Lance as much as it should have. Keith got up suddenly, rounding the small coffee table and sat down next to him. Their hands still linked, they stared at the sofa opposite, butterflies bursting in their stomachs.

For a brief moment, Lance was blinded by the contact of their hands, his warmth, so close to his own. He had to close his eyes to fight back the tremors that passed through him. Keith’s hands were a little smaller than his own, fingers slightly thicker, but he was warm. It was...cute how much smaller Keith was compared to him.

Keith’s hand wrapped around his waist, tugging at his shirt, and Lance tried to fight back a gasp. He turned to look at Keith, wondering just what he was thinking of trying. But Keith looked away, his cheeks and the tips of his ears a hot red.

 _What are you trying to do?_ He wanted to yell, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Looking at him, Lance had the sudden urge to go with his gut thought and kiss him. What would those pouty lips taste like?

Keith’s eyes widened and he looked up at him, they were sparkling with glee, and Lance found his gaze fixated on them. 

Ay, this boy was going to kill him with that look. 

“Gosh, I hope not,” His lips curved into a wry, self-depreciating smile, but then widened with amusement. 

Lance watched his lips as they moved as Keith spoke, fascinated by their contours and the plumpness of his lower lip in comparison to the upper. Keith continued talking, and Lance found himself wondering what it would be like if he _did_ kiss him. His first kiss... 

He blinked at the thought crossed his mind, and then he straightened abruptly, both alarmed and startled at his thoughts. Ay dios, he was in trouble. Then he became aware that Keith had fallen silent, only the sounds of their breathing was heard. Lance’s gaze shot up from Keith’s lips to his eyes, and widened slightly at the expression on his face. 

“I--” he began uncertainly, but instead he captured Keith’s pretty face in both of his hands and tugged him forward. 

_Oh...sweet..._

Keith smelled so sweet, what was this enchanting scent? It was wondrous, captivating... delicious. Gently Lance moved, inch by inch to give Keith time to stop him if he wished. When their lips pressed together, they both moaned softly. He snaked an arm around Keith’s waist, drawing the smaller boy to him until their chests pressed tightly together. 

Keith tilted his head so his lips pressed more firmly against Lance’s, drowning in a heated fusion that should have set them both alight. Keith’s lips were softer and warmer than he had imagined, and he lingered for far longer than he should have. Lance wanted to lick them, bite down on them. He moaned, feeling Keith’s hands cup his waist and massage its fullness in his palms through the thin shirt he wore. He moaned again, shocked to feel himself tremble at the passion Keith could easily rouse in him. 

Keith moaned into his mouth as his fingers touched warm, soft skin. Keith’s stomach was flat and soft and Lance desperately wanted to bend down and run his tongue along the smooth expanse of flesh. He wasn’t sure where all of these thoughts were coming from, but all he knew was that he wanted Keith, wanted to keep kissing him, wanted to hold him close and never let him go. 

Instead he moved his hands up, revelling in the feel of Keith’s back, slipping up in the coarse material of his shirt. He had never wanted someone as much as he wanted Keith right here and now. Finally, they pulled away, pressing their foreheads together as they panted to catch their breaths. 

"Wow..."

"Yeah... _wow..._ "

Lance tried, but no words could encompass just how perfect it had felt to kiss him. How much he wanted to just duck down and kiss him again. Ay, the way Keith was smiling, his eyes sparkling, mouth wide and kiss-bruised. Dios mio, he wasn’t going to survive. Death by his first kiss, that was it. He was done. Nothing could be as perfect as this moment. 

Keith was the one to move then, the apple of his cheeks a brilliant red. He snaked his arms around Lance’s neck, gripping at his shoulders and pulling him closer. His grasp was hasty, as if he were trying to gain some control to the situation. Lance’s didn’t know what was happening, his desires overwhelming his ability to comprehend anything other than the pounding need of pleasure. The physical ache of his heart telling him he needed to kiss Keith again to survive. 

But, this wasn’t right...they barely knew each other. He should have at least taken Keith out on a date before this. He should have at least _asked_ Keith. Instead, he had just gone in, headfirst, and kissed him! What would his mother think of him! Ay dios!

“I’d like to meet her,” Keith murmured, lips brushing his own as soft as a butterfly wings caress. “I’d like to meet them all, my stardust,” 

Lance’s eyes widened in shock. Heart stopping. He jumped away then, getting up off the sofa and slamming his back to the bookshelves on the wall next to them. 

Keith was wearing his bracelet. Keith wanted to meet his family. Keith called him his stardust! 

_I kissed him. Oh no, no, no, no! This can’t be...I forced myself on him! He’s going to hate me, he’s going to want nothing to do with me. How could I have done something so stupid!_

“Wait, don’t go...” Keith got up and followed Lance, as if the very thought of being far away from him was causing him physical pain. But he hadn’t been looking where he had been going, gaze transfixed on Lance and his tumultuous thoughts. His shin caught the edge of the table and he stumbled forward, crashing into Lance. 

Lance had his arms open in the shock, wrapping them tight around Keith’s falling body and holding him away from harm. Though he had reacted, his body hadn’t expected the sudden weight. They twisted around in a weird tumble, Lance fell back on the ground, with Keith above him, Keith‘s arms wrapped protectively around his head and back. A few books fell, hitting the ground around them. 

“I...Lance, please don’t think that. I wanted it,” Keith’s breath was just as whisper soft. He didn’t want to move away. He leaned down, hoping to kiss the boy again, but Lance bolted up, head bumping into the bookshelf again. He screeched at the pain, as a few more books dropped and slapped against both of them, before bouncing onto the ground. 

They heard footsteps coming from the hallway. 

Ah crap. Keith’s heart burst, on the one hand, he didn’t want to move, but on the other hand, both Shiro and Adam were standing there, watching them. 

_Crap! They didn’t...see...did they?_ He groaned inwardly. _Great going Kogane._

Lance stilled under him, his hands gripping tight on Keith’s shirt. He let out an adorable little squeak, the world around them seemed to still again, and Keith knew Lance had stopped time again. But he wasn’t going to let him get very far. He tried his hardest to move, to do something, anything. Lance wasn‘t going to leave him, not like this. Not after that kiss! 

But he wasn’t able to, he watched as Lance slid out from under him, giving him one long, lingering look and then he was out from Keith’s sight. Time started up, and Keith tumbled onto the ground. He quickly got up and saw Lance at the door, saying thanks to Shiro and Adam. His thoughts racing. 

“No Lance! I didn’t mind!” He cried, he felt time stilling once more, and pushed through it, forcing his words out, though everything in him was forcing him to stop. He felt like he was walking through treacle, slow and hard and awful. “Wait, please, Lance, I wore the bracelet, I know what it means!” 

“I...okay.” Lance paused at the door, he looked back to Keith, noticing him completely stopped at the hallway entrance, looking up at him with such soulful eyes. He knew Keith could hear him, could see him. Could do everything except move to him, touch him. “But I want to take you on a date, I want to do this right,” 

He didn’t wait for Keith’s answer, he didn’t have to. He saw Keith smile again, and he knew that was a resounding yes. He was just too nervous and too cowardly to do anything more. Urges rushing he made his way to Keith, stopping until he was directly in front of him. The pounding in his mind, insistent, intense, and demanding, his gaze moved down to Keith’s slightly parted lips, fingers soon following. 

The stillness of his time manipulation offered a sort of protection, so no one other than he and Keith would ever have to know. Lance cradled the curve of his cheek, not touching him, just hovering, feeling the heat. That invisible force pulling him closer. He moved closer and closer still until their lips met. The same ribbons of heat and passion and hunger travelled through him, and all of his thoughts tapered to a close; except for one. 

_This is what a kiss should be like._

He gasped when he heard Keith’s voice murmur into his ear. “Tomorrow, noon, meet me here,”

That voice should have a warning label, it was like warm cocoa on a cold night. Shocked, he snapped to attention and found himself staring into the most beautiful pair of purple eyes, glowing with promise. Lance gasped with a combination of disbelief, fascination and mortification. 

Keith wasn’t frozen... 

Breath snagged in his throat, he smiled so wide. “Yeah, tomorrow, noon, I'll be here, on the dot, right on time. That's me. On time.” 

He kissed Keith one more time, so happy that he was now able to do so without seeming like a creep. Reluctant, he pulled away and opened the front door. Leaning back, he grinned. “See you later, Keithy-cat!” 

“What the...” Keith shook his head, watching him leave. And then he processed what Lance had said. His eyes widened in shock. Keithy-cat was what his eomma and appa called him! How the hell had Lance...was it just a coincidence? “...fuck!” 

The world started around him again, but Keith’s thoughts swirled to the kisses they had shared, fingers pressed to the tingling feeling on his lips. He had a date with a beautiful boy tomorrow! 

“So...” he was shocked by Adam’s voice. He blushed hotly, body tense. Had they...had they seen? “What scandalous thing happened here?” 

He turned slowly, mechanically, not looking at either of them. Oh god, he wasn’t going to live this down, was he? 

“So!” He cried, hoping to change the topic from the teasing thoughts the two were thinking for him. They knew, they _knew he had been kissed!_ Oh god. “Who wants some ice cream!"


	19. Kogane

It was so awkward.

The ice cream was good though. Keith couldn’t go against something that tasted so sweet and cold. Shiro had brought out the large box from the fridge and had started scooping up even larger servings of the ice cream, intent on trying to finish it as soon as possible – to prevent it from melting.

Though Keith was sure it was because Shiro had a bit of a sweet tooth.

So did Keith, actually.

He just wished Lance was here to share it with him. He couldn’t get that kiss out of his mind, he wanted to see him again, maybe kiss him a little more. But he’d see Lance tomorrow, at noon...here.

“So, you’ve got yourself a date, huh?” Shiro’s voice was a harsh and teasing reprieve from his sweetened thoughts. 

Keith held a hand to his ears, hoping the gesture would block his thoughts from the other mind reader, his dark eyes narrowing on the man. “Privacy!”

“A date!” Adam gasped, getting up off the sofa and leaning over the table to reach for Keith. “You’ve got a date with Lance?”

Keith was glad they didn’t ask just what had transpired over the time they had gone into the kitchen. There had been so much emotion, so much tension, so much... _ something  _ that still didn’t really make sense to Keith. They had a weird relationship. It was nothing like those movies Keith had watched with his mother whenever he had been sick or just wanted to spend some time with her. Nothing in those movies explained this feeling...this... warmth inside him. He was fit to burst with it, wanting to go out there and shout it to the world, wanted everyone to know that Lance was his, and no one  else's . That Lance had picked him!

He just knew that he and Lance meant something. Something that was just for them, but also something that meant something important.

He was giving himself a headache.

Looking up, he frowned at Shiro’s teasing face, he looked like a proud dad. And wasn’t that the kicker, he was technically Keith’s dad when the paperwork was all done.

Huh, Keith had two dads.

“Three, actually.” Shiro stated clearly, calling Keith’s attention. “Your real father, Adam and I.”

“O...oh.” Keith stilled. “I didn’t think you’d want me to remember my... appa ,”

“Where did you hear a silly thing like that?” Shiro rebutted. 

Keith looked down, fingers fiddling with the spoon in his hand. He placed it down in the  half eaten ice cream bowl and shook his head. How was he supposed to know this? Everyone at the House told him to forget about his parents, ‘ _ your new parents don’t want you to be sad, always smile,’  _ new parents, these were his new parents. ‘ _ Forget your old parents, they left you to me. You will call me mother.’  _ Keith had never called Miss Haggar mother, which she hated. It was one of the reasons he was beaten daily by her. Told off and sent to his bed with no dinner, told to work harder because he was the eldest, and still so hot headed that he didn’t call his mother ‘mother’.

Calling Miss Hagger mother never did sit right with him. But this was all he knew. All those books he read had told him that when he was adopted, he would have a  _ new family _ . That meant he’d have to forget his  eomma and  appa , right?

A warm hand and a metallic hand held onto his clenching fists, squeezing them softly. “Oh Keith, no.”

Adam turned the coffee table and sat down next to Keith, holding his arms out, asking him for a hug. When Keith made no move to protest, he wrapped his arms around him and held him close, carding soothing fingers through his hair.

“You are still a  Kogane ,” he stated finalising, his voice trembling with emotions. “You don’t have to take  Shirogane as your last name if you don’t want to. Your  eomma and appa...they...we don’t want to take their place,”

“Tell us about them,” Shiro offered.

Keith felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Everything he had known for the past four years had been thrown asunder. Nothing Miss Hagger had told him was real. He was getting adopted, into a good family, one who loved him, and wanted him around. They didn’t want him to forget who he was, where he came from. 

He was a Kogane.

So, he told them everything, every little thing he could remember about his  eomma and  appa . How sweet they were together, so completely in love with one another. Soulmates, star crossed and wonderful. Like those fairy tale stories. And just how embarrassing they were as well. 

He told them how they’d all wake up early in the mornings, before  appa had to go to work, and have a big breakfast, because it was an important meal of the day. How,  eomma would always have trouble flipping pancakes, so  appa would come up behind her, holding the pan and help her flip them perfectly.

How he and  eomma would press kisses to his face when he left for work, for good luck. Because  appa worked in a very dangerous job, going into burning buildings and saving lives. Keith had always been so proud of his  appa , telling all of his friends how brave he was, and how Keith was going to be just as brave.

He told them how worried his  eomma would be whenever he was late to school, rushing around to make sure he had everything, and how she’d shower him with good luck kisses before he left the car in front of the school. How, when he was picked up, he’d tell his  eomma everything that happened to him in school, how they’d have long conversations in the car. He loved this time he had with his eomma, how they never kept secrets from one another.

How, when they’d got back home, and Keith had done all of his homework, he’d sit on the worktop in the kitchen and watch as his  eomma got to work making dinner, how he’d help as much as he could, how his eomma had told him to hold a knife, how proud she had been when he had made a salad for appa, and how happy appa was to eat it. 

How, at night, his  appa and  eomma would sit by his bedside and read him stories, making him giggle and laugh, making him want to hold them close and read about everything. How he’d drift off to a peaceful sleep in his  eomma’s arms, while his appa always pressing Mr. Hippo to his chest.

He missed Mr. Hippo.

He missed his parents. He missed his  appa’s laugh, and the way his  eomma smelled of sweetness and books. Everyone told him he had his  eomma’s eyes, and his appa’s smile.

He wanted them here.

Adam ran a soothing hand through his hair, still holding him close as he spoke. It wasn’t the same, it never would be the same, but he felt safe here.

He felt like he was home.

~~

Awkward.

It was so awkward! Keith had left last night with a much lighter heart. Shiro had dropped him to Miss Haggar’s house – Adam was not allowed to come, because Keith had heard his thoughts on how much he wanted to punch her in the face – Shiro had held him back, kissing him soundly – which reminded Keith of the feeling he’d get when his parents kissed, embarrassment, but he loved seeing how in love they were – and had left him to get the guest room ready.

Because Keith was coming back with him, officially theirs. 

There had been a spring in his step as Keith followed Shiro to the car, he couldn’t help but fidget as they drove to Miss Hagger’s House. Shiro had knocked on the door and spoken to Miss Hagger, getting right to the point while he packed his things. Shiro had wanted him out of that place as soon as possible. The sooner the better.

Miss Hagger had seemed shocked, but Shiro already had all the papers ready. Adam had already had everything in motion within the last few months of knowing Keith. He always knew what to expect, what was going to happen. He was wonderful that way.

So, all the initial checks had already been done, the registration was done too, and with Adam being a psychiatrist in the field, the Adoption Panel had been happy to assess him as thoroughly as possible, and given him and Shiro positive marks. 

All they needed to do now was have Miss Hagger sign the final paperwork, give it to the courts and Keith would be theirs officially.

She had done so, begrudgingly. She couldn’t besmirch her good name to the world after all. And within an hour, Keith was out of Miss  Hagger's House, for good.

Giddy. He  _ still  _ felt giddy.

But not as giddy as he felt knowing just what else today meant.

“Good morning, Keith!” Adam’s chipper voice called him out of his stupor. He made his way down the stairs to the foyer. It was weird knowing that this place was going to be his new home.

They were going to go to the courts on Monday. Both Shiro and Adam were adamant to get this all sorted out as soon as possible. Keith had quietly asked if they could go today instead, which had left him with an embarrassing amount of cooing from Adam and loud laughs from Shiro. But they had both told him to focus on his  _ date with Lance. _

_ He was going on a date with Lance today! _

“We’ve got a lot to do before your date,” Adam stated, tugging at Keith’s arm and ushering him into the kitchen. There was so much food on the table, and Shiro was sitting there, reading the morning newspaper. Keith felt his heart stick to his throat, it was just like his  eomma and  appa . “Let’s get some breakfast in you, first.”

Keith would never be able to get over just how delicious Adam’s food was. He had piled his plate with everything he could get his hands on, there were all sorts of foods here, pancakes and eggs, he recognised, a small bowl of rice for all three of them and a savoury smelling soup next to it. Miso soup, he heard Shiro think. There were stuffed paratha’s as well, spicy, doughy pancake like paratha’s with potatoes and god only knew what else in them that made them taste so  _ good. _

“We need to get you some clothes that fit,” Shiro said, looking up and down Keith’s attire. 

He had sought to wear whatever he had on him at that moment. A too big shirt he had been given from the House, and drawstring pyjama’s that pooled over his feet. Shiro was right. He looked like a mess. He couldn’t go on a date with Lance looking like this!

“I think I have some of my old clothes in the loft,” Adam replied with a smile. So, they did just that, after breakfast, Shiro climbed the ladder into the loft, and pulled down a large suitcase marked with ‘old clothes’ on it.

Keith helped him and they made their way to the guest room –  _ Keith's room  _ as Adam told him, he wasn’t a guest there – and opened it. Adam had made his way up the stairs then, drying his wet hands on a tea towel. 

They had spent the majority of that morning going through the clothes, pulling out folded clothes, some in plastic packets, others in bags. They were all so very colourful, and there were many that were a traditional Pakistani style. 

Adam had put those back into the suitcase, but Keith was intrigued by them. He had reached for one, a deep maroon one that looked like it had some simple embroidery on it, and held it on his lap. When he saw he wasn’t being told off, he reached for more and more that caught his eye, until he had a furtive pile of traditional shalwar kameez folded neatly next to him.

Though Adam’s focus was to find clothes that would fit him, Keith could hear him gushing and sounding so happy that he had picked them. That he was trying. It made Keith’s heart soar that he could make Adam  _ and Shiro _ happy.

They picked out a simple outfit, black jeans and a red checked button up shirt. Shiro had ushered Keith into the bathroom and told him to take a shower, and they’d have the clothes cleaned and pressed for him in his bedroom.

Soon, Keith found himself fresh and clean, long dark hair brushed and soft, wearing clothes that actually fit him this time. He made his way downstairs, wanting to show himself off to the two. Adam had started tearing up and Shiro told him he looked good.

“I have something for you,” Shiro reached for a box on the table, and handed it to Keith. “I know how much your shoes mean to you, but they are getting...small.”

Keith narrowed his gaze and took the box. Pulling the top open, he gasped when he saw the same red high tops he always wore, except these were new, and looked like they would fit him. He didn’t want to part from his shoes, the only thing he was allowed to keep, alongside his  eomma’s kitchen knife, but even that had been taken away from him by Miss Hagger. But at the same time, they were really small on him, and he didn’t want  _ Lance _ to...hate him.

“We...can we,” Adam paused, hiccupping back his emotions. “I wanted to get your old shoes cleaned and fixed, and then we could...put them up somewhere? As a reminder of where you come from.”

Put them up. As a reminder. They really didn’t want him to think they were replacing his parents. They wanted him to remember who he was, where he came from.

He was a Kogane.

He nodded, holding back his tears and held the new shoes lovingly to his chest. He was eager to try on these new shoes, knowing his old ones would be taken proper care of. Adam had taken the box from him, opening it and taking the shoes out, holding them in front of Keith.

The doorbell rang, bringing them out of their thoughts. Keith gazed up to the time and saw he still had a good half hour before noon.  So, it couldn’t be Lance...could it?

“That boy seems eager,” Shiro muttered under his breath as he stood up and made his way to the front door.

“Morning Shiro, I know I’m a little early,”

Keith’s ears perked up to the sound of Lance’s voice at the door, he felt warm and gooey, knowing that Lance couldn’t wait until noon to see him. A goofy smile rose to his face.

“Ah...young love,” Adam teased, handing the unlaced shoes to Keith.

Keith rolled his eyes, putting his shoes on. He got up, pouting when Adam started fixing his hair and his clothes one last time before sending him off to the door. Telling him to be careful but have fun. Keith grinned. Adam was acting a lot like a mother.

Which meant Shiro was probably grilling Lance at the door, like a father would do.

Getting there as quickly as possible, Keith’s heart skipped a quick beat. He had to force himself to remember to breathe.

Lance looked so gorgeous today, in a pale blue shirt and white shorts. He had such a bright smile when he turned to see Keith, shy yet so beautiful. Keith had never been this attracted to someone before, but there was just something about Lance that made him want to stop and stare, ache for a taste of him. 

“I’ll leave you both to it then,” Shiro said, knowing neither of them were listening to him. He left them at the doorway, grinning wide as he met Adam at the kitchen doorway, peering back at the two.

“Hey...” Lance said, gaze darting down and back up his body. Was Lance checking him out? His thoughts were a jumbled mess.  _ Holy shit, he’s so pretty...look at him! And he said yes! Dios mío, I’m going on a date with him! Gracias Dios por  _ _ todo _ _. With his hair and his eyes...I’m going to die, this is it. RIP Lance, dead because his boyfriend looks like a legit snack,’  _

Keith’s cheeks burst a bright red.  _ Boyfriend... _ they were boyfriends...and what the hell did ‘legit snack’ mean anyway? “You...you look really nice too,”

“You...uh...” Lance stuttered,  _ ‘shit, he heard all of that, didn’t he? _ ‘ _ Focus Lance, don’t act like a lunatic already!’ _ Stumbling forward in a bout to get closer, but tumbling into the doorway. He hissed at the pain, but shook Keith’s hand. “You...you already know what I think, but I still want to say you look really good,”

Oh...Keith felt breathless and weak. He loved the sound of his voice, especially when he sounded so flustered. It was cute, and sweet and so lovely. His cheeks reddened; he was starting to fall for Lance so desperately already. He couldn’t wait to see where their relationship took them.

Lance’s breath caught in his throat when Keith blushed brightly.  _ ‘ _ _ So _ _ cute...’ _

“ Lance , please,” Keith straightened himself out. Although, that made so many different thoughts ricochet through his mind. “Stay on top of me.”

Lance 's eyes widened. “O-on top of you?”

“Of  _ things! _ I meant on top of things.” He wanted to thud his head against the wall…repeatedly. When had his mind swirled around the gutters? Oh god, he was acting like a love-sick teenager. 

“Okay, if that’s what you want.” Lance replied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “But I can’t help what I think about you,”

“Lance, please,” He tried to intervene. He had to stop this feeling erupting so quickly in him. He was stronger than this, wasn’t he? No mere man would waver him. But...he argued internally. Lance wasn’t just some ‘mere man’.

“It's been a while since I've had a chance to go somewhere fun.” Lance said, leaning against the wood of the door. “Where are we going for our  _ date  _ today?”

He was doing this on purpose. “Don’t tease me,”

But his pleas went unheard as Lance leaned in close, trapping Keith in place with his beautiful blue eyes. He smirked as he literally heard Keith’s sharp intake of breath.

“Let’s go have a good time,  _ together, _ ”

Oh. _Sesang-e, geulae jebal._ _Wow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flustered Klance is my jam, yo!
> 
> Keith is..unofficially...officially Adashi's child. Ish.
> 
> **Translations**  
>  'Gracias Dios por todo' - 'thank you god for everything'  
> 'Sesang-e, geulae jebal' - 'oh my god, yes please'


	20. Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I am so sorry.

Rain... 

“Why is it raining!” Keith yelled at the conspiracy as another raindrop fell onto his eyelashes. It wasn't supposed to start raining! They had plans! They were supposed to go to the beach, walk along the sand and grab a milkshake and get to know one another. 

But no, it had to start raining! 

He could weather rain, winds and storms, hell, he could take snow. But no, not right now! This date was supposed to be perfect! And this was not normal rain like he was used to, oh no, life had to be brutal to him. It was like a freakin’ storm. A flood falling in small increments from the cloudy skies. Something he had never seen before. He used to love the rain, so much. Before...the funeral... 

But right now. He hated it... 

Looking ahead, he saw Lance holding his arms out to the rain, trying to catch raindrops in his gloved fingers. He looked so innocent, so pure, so cute. 

“Just great…” He huffed, his feet splashing into a small puddle growing on the pavement. He clenched his eyes shut when a raindrop fell onto his eyelashes again. He felt something wrapping around his neck and pulled open his eyes to see his companion, Lance, wrapping his over shirt around him to keep him warm and dry from the torrential downpour, his face reddened even more at Lance’s kind gesture. 

“Take it,” Lance finalised, wrapping it around Keith’s shoulders more tightly. He tapped his finger lightly on Keith’s wet nose, giving him a breath taking smile that made his knees go weak. “You’re not used to this kind of weather, I am. Cuba always has rainy seasons like this,” 

“Thanks…” He smiled, breathing in Lance’s refreshing scent. Perfect. 

The two walked into the warmth of the closest cafe glad to be out of the falling rain. Keith followed as Lance suggested a warm drink. The two found seats near the back of the cafe, rewarding themselves with warm drinks. Lance had ordered, having been here before and knowing the barista and waiters in the café. “Two of your famous cold chocolates, Nyma,” 

Oh, Lance had such an amazing voice, so deep it made his insides quake. Keith sighed in bliss at the cool cocoa running down his throat, warming up his insides. Cold chocolate was very nice. 

He heard Lance sitting opposite him muffle back a chuckle, pulling open one eye, he stared directly at him. “What’s so funny?” 

“You are.” He replied, causing Keith to pout. 

He held his cup to his lips and childishly stuck his tongue out. “Thank you. I guess,” 

“You’re adorable,” Lance smiled, placing his cup down gently. Keith choked on the sip of cocoa he had taken in. 

“Th-the rain seems to have stopped; w-we should get going. Plans and that.” He placed the cup hastily on the table, causing the contents inside to slosh out and land in a ring around the cup, with a small cry he took the napkins from the side, the same time as Lance did. 

Their hands touched and he shot up, taking the next napkin, he wiped away at the mess as quickly as possible, hands shaking. He shot up from his seat again when they were done and waited for Lance to finish and follow him. 

Lance said a quaint goodbye to the waitress who had served them, and they were back outside to the warm and humid air. The rain having let up enough for them to venture somewhere else. Sure, the plans for the beach were ruined, but maybe they could catch a movie or something else instead. He didn’t want this date to end so early. He didn’t want Lance to see just how nervous he was. 

Lance was nervous. 

Of course, he was, have you even _seen_ who he was with? Keith was just so pretty it should be illegal. He was looking so gorgeous today, dressed in something that looked so simple, but made him look so... 

His beauty hit Lance like an uncontrollable whirlwind. Keith merely arched an eyebrow and stepped a little closer to him. Lance recoiled, his heart galloping and then skipping a solitary beat. 

Their hands were touching. Which was a weird thing to notice since they had already kissed and all. But the innocent act of the backs of their hands brushing made his heart keel over and die a glorious death. 

“You doing okay there?” Keith asked, sounding just as nervous as he felt. 

Lance stuttered, but nodded. Keith had the most compelling, amorous voice he had ever heard. Honey rich and warm like refuge on a stormy night. Lance reached for him, pressing the back of his little finger against Keith’s own. Sliding closer. He shivered against the touch. Something about him ignited a fiery heat deep inside Lance, a heat that, once kindled, might never be doused. There was such a pitter patter of conflicted emotions churning away at the butterflies in his stomach. Keith’s presence both frightened and intrigued him. Keith was a stranger after all. But ay dios, he was handsome. 

Keith grinned; his very presence seemed to fluster Lance. And Keith would be lying if he claimed he did not like Lance’s reaction to him. The slight trembling of his body, the parting of his lips, the deep colour in his cheeks. 

Oh, he liked it a little too much. 

His thoughts rushed back to yesterday, the way he had felt against him. The way Lance had grabbed his shirt in a fleeting attempt to avoid falling to the ground and instead had pulled Keith down with him. Keith had landed on top of him, his arms around Lance, caging him in, protecting him from the hard wood floors. Keith had wanted to moan at the sheer bliss of Lance’s body under him, those arms wrapped around him, body flush against his own, engulfing him completely. Protecting him. How his fingers curled into his hair, thumb stroking unconsciously at the curve of his neck. He had shuddered at the thoughts ricocheting from Lance’s thoughts, wanting to...needing to...He was perfect. Everything was perfect. How he wanted to...how easy it would be just to... 

And of course, this was the time where everything went to hell. 

The serene silence was broken by the sound of tyres screeching against tarmac. It sounded like a high pitch scream. Lance didn’t hear the screams, or the cries for them to move, to get out of the way. All he saw was the car in his peripheral vision, losing control as it swerved this way and that on the busy and wet road, coming straight towards... 

...them! 

“Lance!” Keith’s cry was broken by the sound of something hard hitting something soft. A great, loud, squelching thud, followed by Keith screaming. He looked up to see Keith holding the back of his head, face scrunched up in pain, his eyes widened, the pupils eating away at the ring of purple. 

Lance moved as quickly as he could, grabbing Keith’s body and holding his hand up to stop time. But something hard and heavy thudded onto the back of his head, ribbons of white hot pain streaked all over his head. 

“Don't make a scene darling, I'll make it quick…” the voice was sickly, yet familiar. But he couldn’t pinpoint from where. 

He didn’t know he was screaming, but his throat was raw with it, the sudden numbing pain rendered him useless, stumbling forward, right into the oncoming car. He felt two large hands press against his back and push him away from the road. He fell to the pavement, his hands gripping at his head, trying to press the pain away. He felt something warm and wet against his fingers and he knew instantly that it was blood. 

Everything was so loud, and hot, there was blood trails streaming down his face, but he had to stay awake, he had to stay conscious. 

Where was Keith? His head was aching, feeling as if it had split in two. He couldn’t move his body from the hard tarmac. His hands were aching, his body in pain. Keith...where was Keith...He tried desperately to pull open his eyes and get a look at what happened. Keith. Keith. Keith. _KEITH!_

But he couldn’t move. Darkness clawing at the corners of his eyes, he knew he probably shouldn’t sleep after being hit on the head so hard. He couldn’t see anything, there was so much screaming, sirens going off, everything was so cold. So cold. 

Heart banging in his chest, stomach nauseous, he closed his eyes to stop the damn merry go round. Oh shit, he was going to throw up. Everything was fading along the edges as he struggled to get up, but he couldn’t move. What...he...just a little...fingers god damn it, move so he could turn back time and figure out what the fuck to do. He fought back the blackness threatening to engulf him. He had to stay awake...he had to turn back time. 

Where was Keith? 

Darkness nibbled at his consciousness and his eyes shut, leaving him vulnerable to the approaching black. 

No. No! Wait! 

_KEITH!_

~~ 

Where am I? 

Lance let out an inward groan. 

His body felt so heavy, and cold. Darkness was slowly creeping away from his mind as consciousness clawed its way in. It made his head ache, pounding against the blood that started to circulate once again. His sight was slowly returning but the sudden bright white behind his closed eyes almost blinded him. He wanted to lift his hand to cover the light from his face but he found he couldn’t move. 

Panic and fear surfaced. He wasn’t tied down, but it was as if every cell in his body was heavy, slowly waking up from a long slumber. He was on a bed. He couldn't remember how he had gotten there, or what had happened. He blinked his eyes open a couple of times and grimaced. His head was thumping madly and his throat felt as if someone had grated against it. 

After a defiant amount of strength wasted on trying to move, he learned he could flex the muscles of his fingers, albeit slightly. It wasn’t much, but at least he knew the concussion had passed. 

Where was he? Had they found him? 

Where was Keith? He had been right there with him. What had happened? 

His mind fully alert now, he tried to make sense of what was going on around him. He could hear the sound of life faintly in the background, cars streaming past, people walking. A steady and rhythmic sound of beeping. As his ears grew accustomed to sound, he heard the familiarity of the only place he wished never to be in. 

The hospital. 

“H-He-llo?” he called out, his voice cracking. 

He ran his fingers down his throat, hoping that warming it up would make it better enough for him to be able to talk without croaking. He opened his mouth to say something more, but his voice strained. He guessed that he was in shock. He couldn't really comprehend his predicament. 

The curtains around his section were pulled open, the screeching of the curtains against the pole made him wince. A man in a white coat and a bushy red moustache slowly stepped in to the space, closing the curtains behind him. 

“Lance McClain?” he asked. Lance nodded, watching as the man moved to the clipboard on the bed at his feet. “I am Dr. Coran.” 

Lance held a hand to his head and whispered, his voice still croaky and strained. “W-what happened?” 

“Why don't you have some medicine for your throat?” Dr. Coran suddenly said, motioning at the table. Lance only then noticed the small plastic cup and the jug sitting on the side table; Dr. Coran unscrewed the cap and gave him the drink. 

“This should help.” He stated, helping Lance to drink by lightly tipping the cup to his lips. Lance bashfully sipped the lukewarm drink, noticing the familiar bitter taste. “It should soothe your throat and help with any aches and pains,” 

Lance nodded. “Thank you.” He murmured, taking another sip of the drink. Once he was done, he held the plastic cup in his hands and looked up. “Can you tell me what happened? 

“There’s no easy way to say this, you were in a car accident,” Dr. Coran replied. Lance’s breath caught in his throat. “Thankfully you were pushed away by your companion, but...” 

“Keith...no, no, no, por favor dios, no,” Lance murmured, his voice raising higher as he turned hysterical, tears falling from his eyes. No! Nothing has happened to him, no! It couldn’t be! They hadn’t even...they didn’t even... “Esto no esta pasando, no! What happened to Keith? Where is he?” 

Lance's heart beat faster, but he still had a small thought or belief that this was still some practical joke. 

“It’s been two days.” Dr. Coran stated slowly, easing Lance into the information. “He still hasn’t woken up, we're...we're not sure he will make it.”

Lance's heart shattered. His voice turning raw from his screams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm.  
> Again. Sorry.
> 
>  **Translations**  
>  'por favor dios' - 'please God'  
> 'Esto no esta pasando' - 'This isn't happening'


	21. Peripheral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the last chapter.  
> But don't worry. This story has a happy ending.  
> Just a few more chapters, and we'll be back to the sweetness. I promise!

He might not wake up.

Lance’s heart broke. Through the now dried tears, heaving breaths and wracking body, he didn’t know what else he could do. What was the point to stop time now. He had tried – damn, had he tried – to go back to the moment just before the car had hit them,to before when they were safe in the cafe, but every time, every _single_ time it would lead him to the car crash, to the ache and pain. He had exhausted his body and his mind to the point where Dr. Coran had someone now sitting on him, observing him every few minutes to make sure he was okay.

They thought he was having a reaction to the trauma. They thought his body was slowly failing. That something else was happening. But Lance had always healed a lot quicker, much faster than anyone he ever knew. Cuts healed in minutes, bruises disappeared almost immediately, broken bones took a mere hour, rather than days. Wolverine, his older brother had called him, like the mutant from those comic books he read. 

He didn’t care, because right now he was back to normal – well as normal as he could feel with a massive void in his heart from where Keith had already whittled his way and burrowed himself into it – and now he just wanted to set things right.

But, with every twist of his fingers, he was just being brought back to the pain, the heartache, the fear, looking into those purple eyes filled with fear, filled with pain. Oh god.

It seemed this stupid notion, this evil moment that left him without Keith, with his boyfriend – of only a few hours! -- bleeding out on the road, with ambulance sirens screaming in the air and a large crowd gathering around an empty car crashed into the pole right next to them, this was written in fate. This was supposed to happen.

It was bullshit!

But Lance had noticed more on his tenth and most tiring attempt, a lot of things about this mystery car crash. For one thing, it definitely wasn’t an accident.

The car had been empty, the rain splattered on it was a little more noticeable than any of the other cars driving or parked on the street, and it seemed to have veered around a curve before it slammed into the pole. If there had been someone inside, they wouldn’t have had the chance to jump out to save themselves _and_ turn the car. It was like the car literally came from nowhere. 

Something fishy was going on.

Someone had hit them as well. Lance had tried to get a good look at the person who had hit them both, tried to stop and rewind the time just right before Keith had yelled, just before the car had swerved, right before he was shoved onto the pavement by someone. But every time he did, it was like something was stopping him. 

From his peripheral, he had seen it was a man, a large blackish silhouette giant against the rainy backdrop. But every time Lance tried to turn his head; a maddening headache would tremor through him. Whoever that man was, he did not want to be seen. Through his limited vision, he could see the man holding something to Keith, held up about to hit his pretty head. Lance had felt his head split in two. The pain was just as awful as the hit itself. But for whatever reason, whenever he turned a look at the person behind Keith – behind him – he couldn’t see him. It was like he was right there, right in front of them, but he wasn’t. 

Lance’s heart shattered. He wanted so badly to help Keith, but what could he do? He tried to get up, to get away, to do _something_ , but that man sitting outside, watching over him, who didn’t he have anything better to do, anyone better to take care of, would come in to check on him. 

His large family had left mere moments ago, not being able to stay passed visiting hours. He had been given boxes of his favourite foods and other comfort items, like his own pillow, and a few sets of clothes. After talking it over with Dr. Coran, he had found that he was healthy, but those small moments of oddness in his reports were causing him worry. Those moments where he had tried to go back in time... but Coran wanted to observe him a little more, over the night, so he could figure it out, but he had said that Lance was allowed to eat small portions of home foods, and Lance was ever so grateful. Hospital food wasn’t always the best. 

He wished he could try and comfort Keith somehow too. 

Waving goodbye to his departing family, he waited for their retreating forms to completely leave and sighed deeply. He slumped back on the bed, body quaking. 

His poor Keith. Dr. Coran had told him he was in the ICU, still recovering. Lance couldn’t believe he and Keith had been down for two days. How could a simple whack to the head and a car crash caused them to go out for two whole days. Especially him, who healed so quickly. 

Fuck. Fuck, Fuck. Something else was at play here. He was sure of it. He just had to find out what. 

He waited until the hospital was a little more quieter, when everything had slowly died down to a mulling stir. Twisting his fingers, he waited those few seconds for time to completely stop. When everything turned to blissful silence, he got up and out of his bed. Thankfully they hadn’t stuck him onto anything. He was just being observed after all, no IV’s or anything. Pulling the heavy blanket from his body, he shivered when his bare feet touched the cold floor. 

Carefully, he made his way to the door and pulled it open. The coast was...well it wasn’t clear, but it was still. Dodging and meandering passed doctors, nurses and patients, he found a sign leading to the ICU. 

Okay, piece of cake. 

He took the stairs down one floor and found himself pushing the doors open to the ICU. There was a still life of commotion in here, there were a lot more people, and a lot more blood on the gurneys. There were doctors on computers, or talking to patients, nurses closing curtains to hide away the patients who were seriously hurt, porters cleaning used beds, and overnight visitors slumped on the waiting area seats just outside. 

Okay, he had to find Keith.

Side stepping passed a nurse with clipboard, he dodged around another who was talking to a visitor. At the main reception, which was just a man sitting at a computer, typing something, hands poised over the keyboard. Lance slid the keyboard from under him and looked at the screen. Great! It was at the floor plan already. Grinning, he scanned the image on the screen and saw Keith’s name. He was at the far end of the room. Perfect. He slid the keyboard back under the man’s fingers, and got up slowly. 

He made his way over to the room and pushed the door open slowly. He saw a curtained off area right at the far end of the room. It was only covered on one side, so Lance couldn’t see who was on the bed. Spotting Shiro and Adam sitting on the chairs, Adam pressed into Shiro’s side, while Shiro was talking to him, running his hands over his hair and trying to support him. 

Lance bee lined it over to them. Heart thudding, he pulled the curtains back. His breath caught in his throat. 

Oh...my _querido._

Lance couldn’t look away from him. Keith’s head was bandaged up, similar to the way Lance’s had been, his hair was in disarray, there were wires coming out from the crook of his arm and his chest, hooked up to the machines. He looked horrible, but peaceful as he slept. 

How could he...what an idiot he was. He held back at the frustrated moan, holding his hands to his stirring stomach. He felt so dizzy. 

“I’m sorry...” he croaked out. What else could he do but apologise. It was because of him that Keith was in there. If he hadn’t...if he could have just been better. He should have done something! He wanted to reach out, wanted and needed to touch Keith, but he stopped himself. He couldn’t. 

It was because of him that they stopped at that spot. It was because he was too slow, too weak, to have stopped time at the right time to prevent all of this. The tears he had been holding back before began to fall. He dropped to the ground, wrapping his arms around his body and ducked his head low. 

It was because of him. It was because of him. If he hadn’t given Keith the bracelet – the one Keith was _still wearing, ay dios_ – if he had just left him alone, if he hadn’t acted like such a stalker, Keith wouldn’t have noticed him. They wouldn’t have met, they wouldn’t have kissed, they wouldn’t have... 

But he was selfish. He wanted this. He wouldn't change his meeting with Keith for anything. And yet, his selfishness had caused this. Lance couldn't breathe. He gripped his sides, his vision swimming, his head hurt. He should have been faster, more careful. He shouldn’t have considered walking, he should have made them stay in the café, or find something else to do. Why didn’t he listen! 

And after all of that, all he could say was sorry. 

Pathetic. 

Something moved in his peripheral, something large, but sneaky, something hidden in the shadows of the room, behind the curtains and away from the light. But it shouldn’t be possible. Time had completely stopped here. Nothing should be moving, not unless he touched it. And Lance was sure he hadn’t touched a damn thing other than that keyboard. 

Fear gripped him. Who was this? 

They obviously didn’t know he could move, that he could see them. Staying in his kneeling state, he waited for the large mass to come to him. Looking from the corner of his eyes, he spotted a pale hand pushing the curtains away, and a familiar glint of large round glasses, and he gasped. 

“Pidge?” He got up suddenly, seeing the shorter person jump back with a yelp. The curtains screeched open and Pidge stumbled onto a large man standing behind her, holding onto her arm. “Hunk! How the...what the...huh?" 

What the hell? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Pidge and Hunk.  
> I wonder why they haven't stopped in Lance's time stop?  
> Hmmm...
> 
> This is turning into a mystery...


	22. Bae Bae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick rundown of Pidge and Hunk's powers.  
> I will delve more into it as the story progresses, so take this explanation with a grain of salt (hell, take the whole margarita in hand).

“Pidge?” He got up suddenly, seeing the shorter person jump back with a yelp. She stumbled onto a large man standing behind her, holding onto her by her arms. “Hunk!  How the...what the...huh?" ?”

Pidge righted herself and grinned, fixing her glasses she peered up at him. “You don’t think you’re the only one who can do cool stuff, right?”

“But how?”

He struggled to understand just what was going on. Everything was stopped, everything. Lance hadn’t ever spotted anyone moving, never. Not even the birds or insects, hell, he hadn't ever heard wind going through the trees. Everything stilled. And yet, Pidge  _ and  _ Hunk were here, they were moving, they were talking as if it were a normal running day.

“Your stasis doesn’t work when Hunk is here,” Pidge stated simply, thumping the back of her hand to the large Samoan standing behind her. Like that was the be all and end all of the conversation.

It only made Lance all the more confused. They had powers too? What kind? Why didn’t they tell him? Then again...he hadn’t told them about his own, so it made sense. But... _ still!  _ How did they know it was  _ him  _ who was able to do all this stuff? Had they seen him do it? Had they been able to move every time? He had stopped time around them too, had they been pretending to be stopped while he went about whatever he stopped time to do?

Holy crap, were there other people who could do this too?

Hunk waved, letting a nervous smile hit his lips. “Not all the time, sometimes your stasis stops us too. I wonder why it was different this time...”

They both got that pondering look, the one that usually meant they were so lost in their thoughts, and it always meant bad luck for Lance and everyone around them. 

“Okay, but...” Lance got up from the ground, darting his gaze to Keith. “Why are you  _ here _ _? _ ”

“I. .. I know Keith...well, sort of. He...he was there when...” Pidge scrunched her nose in her memory, and Lance understood. 

He had known the two since they were very young. He remembered all the times they had been together – especially when they had been seven and eight and she had come screaming into the house, crying about her dead dog and the boy who had saved her. She had looked so  fraught , so scared, yet at the same time, she had looked excited. 

“He...” she shook her head, making her way over to Keith and giving him a quick gaze. “Look, it’s hard to explain, so let me just do this now, and then we can sit down and talk about it all.”

“Can you...can you save him?”

She nodded, reaching for the clipboard with his information on it. She held it tight in her grasp, staring intently at the words. “He saved me...I owe it to him,” 

Lance nodded, stepping back and giving her space when she asked for it. She held both of her  hands on Keith’s chest, pressing down against the crinkly paper fabric of the hospital gown. Lance wasn’t sure what to expect, what was she able to do? Could she like...turn back time inside someone? That would be a cool thing to do, maybe he should consider trying something like that. 

Small wisps of green light curled around her fingers as she concentrated on whatever it was that she was doing. Those little wisps created a circle of pure light around Pidge’s fingers, before...well, he wasn’t sure what they did. But Keith suddenly lifted up, like he had been shocked. His back bowed, his mouth a wide open ‘o’, his nose scrunched up in pain. His hands were like fists on either side of him. But Pidge continued, she didn’t stop touching him, didn’t stop shocking him with whatever she was doing.

For a moment, Lance had wanted to rush up to her and pull her away, didn’t she see she was hurting him? But he stopped himself, she was here to help. This was  _ Pidge  _ after all. 

Hunk’s large and heavy hand pressed on his shoulder, giving him support. He nodded at his silent voice, knowing he was telling him that everything was going to be okay. Everything  _ was  _ going to be okay. He was sure of it.

A few more excruciating moments of watching Pidge do her work on Keith, he finally dropped back down onto the bed, breathing a lot heavier, but just as still as he had been before. Pidge slowly retreated from his body, the green wisps twisting and turning and slipping out from his body and back into her fingers. The light dimmed until only the low lights of the hospital were left.

She stumbled back, losing her footing. Lance was there to catch her.

“Okay, I think it’s done,” she said through ragged breaths. She wiped at the sweat on her brow and righted herself. She placed a hand on Lance’s bicep, calling his attention. “We should get you back to bed, so you can start time again,”

Lance nodded, taking one more look at Keith. Not able to help himself, he held onto Keith’s hand, gripping at the cold finger and lifting them up to his mouth. Pressing a kiss to his knuckles, he spoke, through warbled breaths. “Wait for me, I’m coming to get you,”

Pressing another kiss to his fingers, he dropped Keith’s hand to where it had been before and reluctantly let him go. Everything in him was telling him that Keith was here, that he was okay, and that Lance should get closer to him, hold him, help him. But he pushed those thoughts away. Pidge was right, he needed to get back to his bed. That way, he could start time up again and return to Keith’s side, be able to see him, touch him, hold him, properly. He didn’t want any of them to get in trouble.

He had just gotten  Keith; he wasn’t about to let him go. He’d never let Keith go.

Hunk pulled him back, and he knew to move away this time. Nodding to the two, he ushered them to his room, through the desolate ICY, passed the frantic ER, up the stairs and into his own room. He noticed the guard at his door was fast asleep, and grinned.

Closing the door to his room, he turned to them. He needed to get his answers now, while he could. But Pidge beat him to it.

“I think it should be okay to start up time now,” 

Lance nodded, sitting on his bed and twisting his fingers a little. He saw Pidge and Hunk watch him intently. He hadn’t ever shown anyone just what he could do. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to explain it if they asked him.

Thankfully they didn’t. Then again, they probably knew more about this than he did.

“Keith should be showing signs of waking up soon,” Pidge said as time started up again. The hospital was back to being bustling, people moving around, murmurs of the nurses and doctors and the low hum of machinery. “Humans take a while to...get fixed,”

Lance crinkled the edges of the standard cloth covering the mattress. His heart was thrumming madly, his head rushing, everything was slowly starting to calm down in him. Keith was okay, he was...Pidge had made him okay.

“How...how?”

“Remember the day  Bae Bae was...” Pidge sucked in a breath, not wanting to remember the time her dog had died in her arms. “Well...I had tried to bring him back...but I had been so young then, and something had gone wrong. Keith had been there, he  _ saved _ me.”

“I remember you telling me,” Lance’s gaze dropped, Pidge had run into their cul-de-sac, crying harshly and pushing his front door open. His mother had asked her what was wrong, worried as to why she was crying. But she had shook her head and rushed up the stairs. He and Hunk had been playing video games in his room when she had come bursting in, crying into their shared embrace, choking out the words ‘Bae Bae’, ‘bad’, ‘wrong’ and ‘dead’ and other things. They had just held her, letting her cry herself to exhaustion, unsure of what to do.

Their parents had come together and she had told them, with blood shot red eyes, about what happened. She had been playing with  Bae Bae , throwing sticks out into the street, like she did all the time. They lived in a cul-de-sac after all. One of her sticks had gone too far back, and  Bae Bae had gone after it. She had followed it to hers and Matt’s tree house in the forest part behind her house and that was when she saw  Bae Bae  just  lying  there, dead.

She hadn’t told them about her trying to bring him back from the dead, and they hadn’t known a thing about the boy that had saved her. 

It hadn’t been until they were all back to their regular day, back to when school was more important, back to when Pidge could see a dog and not weep, that she told them what really happened. How there had been a boy there, who had been able to...she hadn’t really known what he had been able to do. But he had been the one to tell her the dog had turned evil, that there was something wrong with him. He had been the one who had saved her from the bad Bae Bae attacking.

She had practiced, so hard and for so long, and had experimented on anything she could find. Flowers mostly. How, when she knew the ‘bad’ would escape, the flowers would turn thorny and gnarly, how, when she had practiced to keep the flowers ‘good’, they would bloom beautifully. She had tried it on herself, when she had gotten cuts and bruises, and it had worked on her. But she had never tried it on a full body yet. Not until Keith. But Hunk had told her he had seen it, Hunk had told her and she had believed him, because Hunk was never wrong.

“You see premonitions?” 

Hunk scratched the back of his head. “Something like that, it’s like...I can see a few different scenarios of what's going to happen and I like...how it’s going to happen.”

“He knew me coming here would save Keith,” Pidge replied. “So even though I’m not confident that it’d work on a full human, Hunk had already seen it be successful, so I did it. That was just the way it is.”

“Okay...” Lance tried to wrap his head around what he had just heard. “You can bring people back to...you can heal them, and you can...what...see the future?”

Pidge shrugged. “Something like that.”

Okay, he could work with that. “Good, because I think this is far bigger than just us,”

Dr. Coran chose that moment to come barrelling in through the door, noticing the two guests in the room, but not saying anything about them. Lance shot up from the bed.

“How is he?”

Dr. Coran smiled, “He’s showing signs of improvement, the injuries have died down quite considerably, which is a big surprise,” -- his gaze darted to Pidge and Hunk, and then back to Lance, -- “I believe he will make a full recovery a lot quickly now.”

Lance sighed in relief. “Can I go see him?”

“He is currently resting, but I don’t see why not,”  Dr. Coran nodded, motioning him out of the bed and out of the room. Pidge and Hunk followed them, making their way through the now intense hospital floors. Taking the lifts to the bottom floor and around the ER, along a couple more hallways until they reached the ICU ward.

Lance didn’t want to think about just how weird  Dr. Coran was acting. Instead, he pushed open the door and rushed over to where Keith was. He nodded at Shiro, Adam still sleeping soundly on his shoulder.

His attention was taken by Keith. Who had less wires on him now, the steady beeping lulled him closer. He reached for Keith’s hand, similar to how he had done before and pressed a kiss to it.

Keith was okay, he was here. It had worked. He was okay.

“L-Lance...” 

Lance heard his croaking voice and couldn’t help shed the tears that had clung to the corners of his eyes throughout this whole afternoon.

“I’m here, _mi hermoso, mi_ _querido_ ,” Lance pressed more kisses to his hand, his knuckles, his fingers. 

Keith’s eyes opened a scant, long beautiful lashes heavy and wet with tears. “I...waited...”

“Yes, yes, _mi_ _estrella_ ,” Smiling widely, lips wetting his hand with more kisses. "You'll never have to wait any longer, I'm here now, I'm here, I'm yours."

They'd figure out what was going on, why this had to happen, why he and Keith had been attacked by a man who he could not see. But for now, for now. Keith was okay, Keith was here. And Lance vowed he would never leave Keith's side.

That man was going down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its a short one.
> 
> **Translations**  
>  'mi hermoso' - 'my beautiful'  
> 'mi querido' - 'my dear'  
> 'mi estrella' - 'my star'


	23. KKSW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its late, had a bit of a hospital scare this morning. Thankfully not because of the pesky virus, but hell, it might be worse. Nah, it was just an check up.  
> I swear, those nurses are like vampires, I'm sure of it! Seven vials! Who the heck takes seven vials of blood! They must be drinking some on the fly!  
> I'm onto you!
> 
> I'm doing a lot better now, sorry to worry you!   
> Spent the rest of the day drinking juices and actually being allowed to have two (count them TWO) pepsi's. And if you know me well, you know I absolutely am stupidly addicted to the stuff.
> 
> But enough about my rendezvous with the vampire nurses, onto the chapter!  
> Better late than never!

Lance looked around cautiously as he crept through the dark hospital hallways. It was near to midnight, only the night staff were milling about. He hadn’t been able to get away from  Dr. Coran and his lackeys until just about an hour ago. He hadn’t even eaten anything, but he didn’t care. 

There were more important things to worry about now anyway.

One of the  late night nurses had put up a fuss for him being out of bed, but he had given her his puppy dog eyes, wondering how he hadn’t spotted her beforehand. He needed to focus. Pausing time and getting by was the best plan now. So, he did just that. Feeling like a stealthy spy, he stopped time at short intervals, not wanting to overtire himself, or to cause any problems if someone saw him.

He was here because he had overheard  Dr. Coran tell another doctor that Keith had not been well that afternoon, and it would be best to keep an eye on him.

Lance, alarmed at the doctor's report, had not hesitated to plan his escape to Keith's side, and was now on his way to Keith’s room. His thoughts were troubled. Keith had not been well? Had he had some sort of relapse or something? Had Pidge not been able to fully recover him? What was wrong?

Silently, Lance made his way to the room, shutting the door tightly behind him. Keith’s room was dark, and there was only a little light, coming from a small night light in the corner of the room. He slowly made his way over to the bed, seeing both Shiro and Adam sleeping soundly, curled together, on the chairs.

He awed at them, wondering how long it would take for him and Keith to be so in love like that. He hoped it was sooner rather than later.

His attention was taken by his sleeping _estrellas_ , and he knew that the doctor hadn’t been exaggerating. Keith’s face was pale and washed out, his plump lips were trembling with each sleepy breath he took. There were tear tracks on his cheeks, and his eyelashes were still damp with the tears. Lance noticed, with growing alarm, and he quickly comforted himself by grasping at Keith’s limp and thin hands in his own.

“ _Ay, mi_ _querido_ , I can’t leave you for a second, can I? What happened?” he whispered, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead, brushing some of his hair from his face with his free hands. Keith let out a shuddering breath from his pale lips, his dark eyes opening and looking up, first in confusion, and then growing awareness, and then such pure joy.

“Lance.” He breathed, lips stretching with such beauty, that Lance felt his breath catch.

He returned the smile, gently running his thumb over the corners of his eyes, catching his unshed tears, running it down his cheeks and to the corner of his lips.

“Why were you crying, _mi estrellas_?”

Keith’s smile dampened, his eyes clouding a little with darkness. “No reason, I was just being an idiot, I suppose,”

Lance eyed him sharply and let out a low sigh. Without warning, he swooped his arms around and under Keith, carefully picking him up from the bed and into his arms. Keith let out a short yelp at the suddenness, but settled into Lance’s lap, feeling as if he belonged there. Lance grabbed the hospital blanket from the bed and pulled it up, wrapping it around them both, around Keith’s frail body, holding him as close as possible. He wasn’t letting Keith go, especially not when he had been crying about something.

“I’ve wanted to hold you like this so badly,” he murmured, pressing a short kiss on his cheek, his nose, his lips, continuing this motion until Keith’s embarrassment, and struggling stilled. Until he too returned the kisses, wrapping his arms around Lance’s shoulders and tugging him down.

“I want to stay with you,” Keith whispered, pressing another kiss to the crook of Lance’s sweet neck, wanting desperately to suck on it, to leave a mark the world could see.

Lance pulled him away, looking down at him with those pretty blue eyes that made Keith’s heart stutter. He was shocked. “W-what?”

“I...I know we don’t know anything about one another,” Keith tried, playing with the shorter hairs on the back of Lance’s neck. “But I _know_ that I can’t--I _won’t_ be able to do _anything_ without you _—_ what I’m trying to say here—” 

He paused again, looking away from those intense blue eyes, bottom lip trembling with emotion. This wasn’t like him, not at all. He didn’t usually get this flustered around anything. He could hear his mother reading him those stories about princes and princesses, and how they’d find their happily ever  after’s at the end of the book. He knew he felt  _ something  _ for Lance, something  _ intense _ . But would Lance feel the same? He may  _ think  _ he does, but...Keith had already lost so much in his life, he didn’t think he’d be able to lose Lance to. He wouldn’t survive. He was sure of it.

“Actually...no, forget I said anything,”

His thoughts were bombarded with Lance’s sudden burst of happiness. Feelings that were so overwhelming it was causing his heart to beat in double time. He grasped at the bracelet, hoping it would help him steer through his and Lance’s feelings. Oh, he had never felt such happiness before, such unadultered joy.

“I still think we need to get to know one another before we...” Lance paused, trying to find the right words for what they were trying to do. It wasn’t a proposal, not really, they had barely gone on their first date. One that landed them in the hospital. “I want to...can we do this properly?”

Properly. Keith knew what he meant. Lance wanted to wine and dine him, wanted to show him off to his friends, his family, he wanted to  _ court  _ Keith. Regardless of how archaic it felt, Keith couldn’t help but like the idea.

“You’ve only just found a new family, I think we need to do this slowly, take our _time_ ,” he continued, motioning to the two sleeping men on the chairs. Keith’s...fathers...oh god, the adoption! They were supposed to go to the courts today to finalise everything.

“We postponed the adoption court date for tomorrow,” Shiro’s sleepy reply came, before he too fell back into a blissful sleep with his fiance.

Keith frowned at that, it seemed like Shiro would always be listening. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, or a bad one. 

Lance chuckled, giving Keith a dewy smile, cradling his chin in his hands. “I want to be close to you, after...after today—I don’t think I could live without seeing you every day. I need you, Keith,”

Keith sucked in a breath, pulling Lance close, his voice pleading. “You’ll stay with me? You’ll never leave?”

“Only if you want me to,” 

“Stay,” was the only thing he said before kissing Lance with  everything he had in him.

~~

"Shhh!"

"No, you shhh!"

"Shut up, both of you."

"You'll wake them up!"

“Oh, give it up. They’re awake, and they’re laughing at us.” Pidge sighed, as she, Hunk, Adam and Shiro entered the room designated as Keith’s. It had been three days since both Keith and Lance had been discharged from the hospital and allowed to go home. 

In that time, Lance had pretty much always been by Keith’s side, aiding him to wellness. He had told his parents about finding his stardust, and they were eager to meet him. But Keith wasn’t at full percent just yet. He was still recovering from the blow to his head and the car almost crashing into him.

Lance knew that both he and Keith had been hit on the head by someone, and that Keith had pushed him away from the runaway car, getting hurt instead in the process – which was dumb as  quiznak , and Lance was sure to remind Keith not to be such a fuck self-sacrificial martyr all the time, because they were going to have a future together. They hadn’t even had sex yet, which had made Keith turn a lovely shade of red, and had given Lance all sorts of ideas. 

He hadn’t been able to see the man, no matter how many times he had reversed time. At the end of the day, however, he was getting sick of reliving the moment again and again. But he tried to get everything he could get. And had told the others all that he could.

They didn’t have any leads yet, but they’d get there. Somehow. And in that time, they’d rest and recuperate and go out there with guns blazing.

“You doing alright?” Adam asked, making his way over to Keith’s bed and fluffing up his blankets and pillows.

Keith nodded, getting up and running a hand through his sleep mussed hair, fingers laced with Lance’s own as they sat up on the bed. “A lot better than before, I'm sorry to have worried you... _ abu, _ ”

That was another thing. Keith had been discharged from the hospital early Sunday morning with a clean bill of health, and hadn’t been able to wait to get to the courts and sign himself off as adopted. He didn’t care how Shiro and Adam had told him to rest, take another day, the adoption could be postponed again.

But he had wanted this. So, they had kept their appointment, and at noon, Keith, Shiro and Adam had walked into the court as strangers and had come out an hour later as a family.

Keith was family. Keith Kogane-Shirogane-Wasti. Okay, maybe that was a bit too long. But he did prompt Shiro into finally tying the knot with Adam, if only to shorted his triple barrelled last name.

“Oh, my  _ beta _ !” Adam gushed, reaching for Keith and pulling him into a hug. Something he did every time Keith reminded them of their new relationship. Keith couldn’t help it, he called Adam ‘ abu ’ and Shiro ‘ tou -san’ at any time he could get. 

His  appa was still, and would always be, his  appa . It was why they were adamant to not use the word ‘dad’ around the house. It would only bring up sad memories. So, instead they used  abu for Adam, and  otou -san for Shiro, to respect their culture and family, but to also have something special. Something that reminded Keith that, yes, these  _ were  _ his adopted parents, but they weren’t his only family. He was still a  Kogane , his family’s legacy would live on through him. And in turn, so would the  Shirogane and Wasti legacy.

Shiro had mentioned it was a lot of pressure to put onto a child, but Keith had been the one to hand write their last names on the paperwork designating him to his family, telling the court judge that this was his name, full and final. 

“Okay, let’s give the kid some room,” Shiro said, holding Adam back from Keith and settling him on the bed. 

“Our kid...” Adam replied quietly, a bright smile brightening his face.

Pidge settled on the foot of the bed, laying a hand on his lap. Keith knew she was thinking about what they had done, how this was the first time she had revived a full human being from the brink of death. She too wanted to make sure he was okay.

He placed his hand on hers, and smiled. Silently telling her that he was okay, he was still here, and it was all thanks to her.

She nodded, and got straight to work. “Me and Hunk had been researching, and I think we’ve found something,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**
> 
> 'querido' - 'dear'  
> 'estrellas' - 'star'  
> 'abu' - dad/father (in Urdu)  
> 'otou-san/tou-san' - dad/father (in Japanese)  
> 'beta' - 'son' (in Urdu)


	24. K

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, I missed the weekend.  
> Sorry, it was a long and tiring one, and I swear, sometimes life just sucks.
> 
> I'm trying not to make this fic a long one, like I usually do, so sorry if things seemed to be speeding up a little. Eheheh...  
> Here's the next chapter.

“Soon,”

Her dark eyes peered over the glossy picture she held in her hands, the tips of her fingers ghosting over the image of a young boy playing in the garden. The sun was high in the sky, creating a glare on the photo. 

The café she was sitting in was teeming with life, the incessant buzzing of chatter and clink of glasses and utensils took over the air, giving it a sober ambience. The scent of coffee and cakes were a great welcome to the woman who was so unused to the greater things in life. Waiters and waitresses dressed in pale green uniforms fluttered back and forth, meandering through the crowds and tables.

She straightened out her plain brown shirt, patting at her bag by her side and took a sip of water from the glass sitting in front of her. Used to the routine. Her fingers grazed lightly against the pink straw and she sighed out in relief.

“Soon...” She peered out of the window and into the busy streets. Her eyes widened with glee at the familiar car parking out front. The doors opened and a handsome dark haired man got out. He took a quick surveillance of the area and then closed his car door with a light thud. 

Her smile turned to a frown when she saw he was alone. 

~~

Shiro walked into the busy café, the faint chime of a bell tinkling against the myriad of buzzing chatter and sounds of clinking glass. 

He had taken a call from an anonymous woman on the phone who had told him that she knew his son and to meet him at this small, yet busy, café. All she had asked for was for his son to accompany him. Asked for him by name. 

That wasn’t going to happen. Not after what had happened to Keith just a few weeks before. 

Pidge and Hunk had told them they had found something weird. They had hacked into the traffic cameras – and yes, Shiro had ‘turned Dad’ on them all and told them off for breaking the law – and had seen a man dressed completely in black, a large hat and a face mask hiding his face from view. Upon closer inspection, they had noticed the man had some kind of a marking under his eye, hidden under the face mask, but what really gave him away was the two toned eyes, one eye had been completely red in the light. 

They had some form of a culprit, now all they needed was a lead. And that was what had led Shiro here. After taking a call from his contact at the adoption agency, he had spoken to a woman, who had asked for him to come _with Keith_ to the café. 

What did she want with them? What did she want with _Keith?_ Was she in league with the red eyed man who had attacked them? 

Keith had already figured out what had happened, so there was no use in keeping it a secret from him or Adam. And he had told them outright the confusing conversation. Keith had gotten up from the table where they had been eating a lovely dinner courtesy of Adam – well, Shiro wasn’t a great cook, he could only make the basics and some serviceable Japanese cuisine, and Keith had been too eager to learn to cook all sorts of dishes, so he had been the one to help Adam as they worked together to create something that tasted fantastic – and had told him that he would come with him. 

It had taken a lot of coaxing from the both of them to force Keith to stay at the house, with Adam, and keep himself – and Adam – safe. They had called Lance and told him to stay somewhere safe. After all, the man had attacked them _both._

It was no surprise to any of them when Lance had rung their doorbell, overnight duffel bag full of his things in toe. He had rushed to Keith side, as the boy was still supporting a cast on his sprained, not fractured, thank _kami,_ ankle – another thing that caused so much worry as, though Keith could walk okay, he still limped whenever he put too much pressure on the sprain. Which had caused Adam to up his 'mothering' as he was always around Keith, always pampering him and prodding him. Lance was the same, making sure he was comfortable and always had a pillow or cushion or something soft at hand.

Shiro had been a mess. Though he had known it was just a sprain, his mind had decided it was best to conjure up 'what ifs', what if the car had hit him harder? What if Keith had gotten hurt a lot worse? What if he had broken bones, or lost his leg, or worse! What if Keith had died?

The boy refused crutches. Had thrown them to the side of his room, glaring at them any chance he saw them. And had forced himself to stand. Wobble, gasp in pain, but walk. Adam had said Keith reminded him of Shiro, of his stubbornness. Especially when he had lost his arm and had insisted that he could still do everyday tasks right off the bat. If it hadn’t been for Adam, Shiro wasn’t sure where he would be right now. 

The adoption agency hadn't been very happy to know Keith had been in an accident pretty much within 24 hours of them having him. But both Shiro and Keith had been adamant that it was an accident. Wrong place, wrong time. They had listened to Keith's testimony - over the phone, because he was supposed to be at bed rest until he was better - and they had begrudgingly listened and given him a chance.

Thankfully everything worked out. 

Shiro wouldn’t have let Keith come to meet this woman. Who knew what kind of mess they could get themselves into if he gave into the woman’s demands? They already had one strike with the adoption agency. No, Shiro would check her out for himself and see if she was a threat or not. He looked around the many people until he spotted the person that fit the description. 

She hadn’t given him a name, just an initial. K. 

This woman...was a threat. She looked like she came from military. Though she looked like she had been a civilian for decades. No one could ever brush away the military life - Shiro was the same. He hadn't been in the military for decades, but he still woke up in the middle of the night, scared and breathing harshly, memories resurfacing as nightmares.

She was tall, but petite, packed with muscle, her hair was messy, but tied behind her in a narrow tail. Her face was angular, familiar, but her large doe eyes looked hopeful at him. She looked like she could fight, looked like she had killed people without batting her eyes, but the way she smiled when she saw him, her eyes bright as she motioned him over. 

She looked... _like his mother._ And wasn't that fucked up.

“Mr. Shirogane,” She said as he reached her. “Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice,” 

“I’d like to know what’s going on…K,” Shiro sat down in the booth, opposite her, holding his hands out on the table to show he wasn’t armed. He watched intently as she tightened her hold on the strap of her bag. 

“Where is he?” 

Shiro leaned forward, glad that they were getting straight to the point. He wasn’t intimidated by the small woman at all. “What exactly do you want with him?” 

She hummed, her fingers sliding up the straw and circling its tip. “The same thing you yourself want with him, Mr. Shirogane, I want _him_ ,” 

Shiro’s widened slightly at her thoughts. What did she mean? The same thing he wanted with Keith? What sick and twisted thing was she thinking? Keith was his son, he wanted him safe, and secure, and loved. This woman was a threat to him. He was reluctant to have her get what she wanted. He instead leaned back, holding his arm up for the waitress to arrive.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that,” 

“Are you not afraid of me?” She asked, settling back into the hard cushions of the booth, mimicking his stance. 

“I don’t scare easy,” He stated, smirking as she wrinkled her pert nose. “You are only trying to scare me, but in reality, you wouldn’t hurt a fly. You could barely touch me in a violent way,” 

“Mr. Shirogane, you disappoint me,” She muttered, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a worn but polished black pistol, holding it tightly, expertly, in her grasp. “I was given such high hopes about you, Captain...or should I say _champion?_ " 

She smiled brightly at his shocked state and stood up on the booth chair, calling everyone’s attention to her. 

“Excuse me,” She said with a smile. The many happy faces turned into screams and gasps at the sight of the small gun in her hand. “I would like everyone to leave, please.” 

A shot fired into the air, smashing against the roof a few feet away. The chaos and shrieks of the customers and workers made Shiro want to slam his hands to his ears at the memories engulfing his mind, but he knew that if he moved even a little, this innocent demon would most likely shoot him. 

“If you all leave, I will have—” She peered at the waitress standing a few feet away, looking at her name tag. “Wendy; serve you once again. My treat.” 

With the negotiating aside, K returned back to her seat. The crowd all by ran through the glass doors like a great tide being released. Shiro sat still on the hard cushion, his eyes wide, assessing the situation and his gaze not leaving the eccentric woman. 

“Would you like some tea, Mr. Shirogane?” K asked. She pointed the gun’s barrel at the waitress and motioned for her. “Can we have two cups of hot water, and a few packets of sugar, please?” 

The waitress, unable to speak, nodded and retreated slowly to the back of the kitchenette. K’s gaze didn’t waver from the woman, and her gun pointed from her to the man sitting in front of her. The waitress brought over the steaming hot cups of tea and stood silent. 

“I do not require any other hostage, Mr. Shirogane.” She said simply, reaching into her bag to retrieve a small box filled with all types of tea leaves, yet her gun didn’t waver. Shiro motioned for the waitress to leave and the old woman bounded out of the door. K looked up from her bag and dropped a few leaves into the tea. 

“I always was fond of the peach flavour in a freshly brewed tea,” K muttered, taking a spoon and swirling the tea leaves into the hot water. “Would you like some as well?” 

Shiro watched her as she moved gracefully, her fingers swiping and her wrists flourishing as she made the tea. She slid the hot tea across the table to the bewildered Shiro. He took a quick sip of the warm tea and was surprised at the taste. He looked up to the heat of the gun barrel still pointing at him. 

“It’s very nice,” he murmured, putting the teacup down on the wooden table. “I must ask, is there a need for the gun?” 

K shrugged her shoulders, gazing at the metal weapon in her pale fingers. “I’m not fond of it, but it gets the job done. Now Mr. Shirogane, let's get to the brunt of the situation, shall we?” 

Shiro took in a calculated breath, eyeing the woman and waiting until she was busy before reaching for his phone. Using speed dial to the familiar number he heard the ephemeral voice of his fiancé, quiet under the table. But K was quick, she took his phone from his warm grasp and turned it on speaker. 

“’Kashi?” Adam’s voice said through the phone. “Where are you? Are you okay?” 

K smiled at the sound. “So, you're the fiancé; Dr. Adam Wasti, hmm?” 

Adam paused, his voice turning from annoyed and informal to serious and worried. “Yes, I am, where is Takeshi Shirogane?” 

K eyed the man sitting opposite, seeing his eyes widen and almost feeling the way his heart was beating so harshly. She smirked. “It’s alright Dr. Wasti, your lover is with me. We’re having tea.” 

“I'm okay, Adam,” Shiro called aloud, he reached for the phone, taking it out of her hand. But her grip was firm. " _Deteike, ima! Ryoushin no tokoro e iki nasai!"_

Adam's gasp was audible through the phone. "Wh- Shiro,"

" _Sokode aimasho!_ " He tried, as the phone was taken back by K.

She tsked and held the phone to her ear instead. "Your pretty boy needs to learn his manners, I don't think you'd want your parents involved in this as well, right? I already know about your sons little lover, and I must say...I am excited to meet _him_ too."

Adam went silent for the moment, a quick breath later his voice was serious. “What do you want?” 

“Clever,” K said, tapping her nails on the phone case. “I want my son, I want Keith Kogane.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a 'dun dun duuuuun' should suffice here.
> 
>  **Translations**  
>  'Deteike, ima! Ryoushin no tokoro e iki nasai!' - 'Get out now. Go to your parents.'   
> 'Sokode aimashō' - 'I'll meet you there'


	25. Mama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's get the confusion rolling!  
> Like all my stories, everything will be explained to the best of my ability. My brain just does not seem to like writing "normal" stories. And I am so sorry.
> 
> Just...stick with me here.

Adam took in a deep breath as he swerved the busy street corner to the café where Shiro was being held hostage. He was told by Shiro that the woman wasn’t a threat, stating clearly that she didn’t want to hurt anyone, and only wanted Keith. 

Famous last words. 

His muscles flexed as he changed gear. Keith sat next to him, with a tight grip on the edge of the car door and his chair as Adam drifted expertly around another corner. 

“I think I should be worried?” Keith muttered as he tumbled and nearly bumped into the dash. 

The finally arrived at the small café. Keith pointed to the crowd that was forming outside. Adam screeched to a halt in front of the crowd and the two bursts out of the car. He grabbed onto Keith’s arm and pulled him behind him, blocking him away from the view. Keith gripped tightly onto the back of his abu's shirt, pressing his face to the material. He did not want to see. Adam spoke to the local police officer stopping the crowd from approaching the street. 

Moments later, Keith was shoved more into Adam’s back, hidden all the more as Adam’s arm curved around him, holding him closer. The police officer motioned for them to go through to the back entrance of the café. Keith followed as Adam took them to a safe spot nearer the cafe. 

"We have the building surrounded,” the police woman yelled through the megaphone given to her by the man standing next to her. Her thoughts were calm, and steady, making Keith let out a sigh of relief. She had done this kind of thing countless of times before, she would be able to help. “Come out with your hands up,” 

The doors to the café opened and Keith peered from under Adam's arm, he didn't see much, but he saw the familiar tall form of Shiro being pushed out of the café by a petite woman. She straightened out her shirt with one hand, waving brightly out to them as if she recognised Adam. 

“I only want Keith Kogane!” She yelled, her gun still hovering a few inches away from the Shiro's head. 

“Do you know her?” The police woman leaned into Adam and asked. His attention was only at the gun that was steady on Shiro’s side. His thoughts were rampant with fear, with worry. He wanted all of them out of this situation and safe back at home. _'Keith has only just come out of hospital, he shouldn't be here! None of us should!'_

“I do not know her,” Adam replied, gripping onto Keith’s arm tightly, making sure he was there, he was safe. “She has a gun,” 

“Don’t worry, we’re doing our best,” The police woman stated, she held the bullhorn to her mouth again, her voice echoing over the forming crowd being held back by the local police behind them. “I will not allow a minor to go into such a situation, please put the gun down, don't do anything drastic.” 

Though frightened beyond belief at the sound of the woman holding a gun, most likely _at Shiro,_ he had seen enough movies to know things like that would not happen. No bad guy just put their gun down and gave themselves up to the police. 

This was the threat after all. One to his family. He was so grateful they had dropped Lance home before coming here, though the boy protested, he did not want him in such a dangerous situation. 

She was too far away for him to see, hidden behind Adam’s larger frame. But from what he could see, he narrowed his gaze, she seemed familiar. She was pretty, with her long dark hair in a tight ponytail, the way she was looking at him reminded him of an excited kitten. The smile on her face was huge, reaching her doe eyes. She was skinny, yet the steadiness of the gun in her hand showed that she had been trained to this situation. 

“Put the gun down,” The police woman stated as she got closer. 

The woman clucked the roof of her mouth and smiled brightly. “I don’t want to resort to violence, I just want my son back,” 

Wait...son? Who? Him? 

“Who are you?” Keith asked, calling out to her. This...this couldn’t be. He was there when both of his parents had died, he had watched them, the...the doctors had said they had...and he was at their funeral. And... No. This couldn’t be...she did seem awfully familiar ...but...no, that...he had watched his parents...he saw their coffins...what was going on? 

The sound of his voice made her smile so brightly, something so familiar that he stepped out from behind Adam, his body swaying with nervous energy. Adam stood by him, rigid and territorial over the situation. Adam was showing unintentionally that he was in control of the situation and it made her blood boil in excitement. 

“What do you want from him?” 

“Keithy-cat, you’re going to be okay,” she cried out to him, holding the gun directly to Shiro’s head. The man stood still, not showing fear. Keith froze at the nickname, only...only his mother called him that. His mother and...Lance. What was going on! Keith was in awe with his father. He was too far away to hear any thoughts coming from him, but he knew if he were in that situation, he’d be scared beyond his mind. 

“I won’t let these nasty men take you away from me,” She said, growling a little. Her bright smile fell to a frown when she saw confusion in his dark eyes. Her grip tightened on the gun and she pressed it harder to Shiro's head. The man gasped, trying to speak out to the woman, but she hushed him. 

The woman narrowed her gaze. “Keithy ...you don’t remember me? I’m your mother,” 

Keith didn't waver, he took another step forward, needing to get closer, needing to know if this was his mother. He listened as the police woman with the bullhorn assessed the bearings to the situation at hand. She was skinny, but she didn’t look easy to push down. The gun was in her steady hand, it looked as if she would pull the trigger at any extravagant move she made. 

“Put the gun down,” The police woman repeated again, taking another step to her, cautiously. “You don't want to do that,” 

“My mother is dead,” he choked out. “I don’t...I don’t know you. You must have me confused with someone else.” 

He couldn’t get his hopes up. This could just be a crazy person who thought she saw her son in him. He was certain his mother had died. And even if she hadn’t ...she wouldn’t have abandoned him for four years. 

He couldn't hear the screams coming from the crowd, the inane yelling of the local police making their way towards her, surrounding her. All he saw was the confusion in her dark eyes and that the small gun in her hand was pointing at his father. 

"Please put the gun down.” Keith cried, tears clinging to his eyelashes, his breath caught in his throat. Something ugly filling in the pit of his stomach. “Please let my ‘tou-san go!” 

Her gaze narrowed, but she sighed, pulling the gun away from Shiro's head. She waved her hand and the gun disappeared. It looked odd to him, like a glitch in a game. The others around them, including the police woman, seemed to not have noticed, they instead just lowered their arms and made their way back to their police cars. The crowd that had gathered around them did the same, separating and dispersing. Their thoughts returning to...well, normal. No one had even thought about, or seemed to have noticed, the fact that the woman had held Shiro hostage, had had a gun in her hand, and had that gun just up and disappear. 

“I think we need to talk this through civilly,” she said, wrapping her arm around Shiro’s shoulder and ushering them all back into the café. 

Adam’s hand tightened hard on Keith’s shoulder as he followed the two into the café. It was empty, except for one waitress, who sauntered to them and took them to a booth. As if nothing had ever happened. 

Keith was squished between Shiro and Adam, leaving the other booth seat to her. Getting a closer look at her now, his heart thudded madly. She...this couldn’t be right. He had seen her die! He had seen her...her...she had...he had been at the funeral. Why...four years! Why did she leave him? Where had she been? H... how could she do this to him? 

Mama...this was his mother. She was sitting right in front of him, smiling softly, reaching her hand out to him. Her thoughts were filled with him, of everything. The thoughts rushed through him, his mother cradling him when he had been born, holding him close, singing to him, reading to him, everything she had done for him, with him. And he couldn’t keep the tears away, couldn’t help but cry. Sobs wracking his body, breaths catching in his throat. He cried. All the pain he had to go through for the last four years, all the hatred, all the fears. He had seen his parents die: he had thought it had all been his fault that the car crashed. And yet, she was here. She... 

She was _here!_

“Mama...” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I make my boy go through such pain!  
> Aaaaah!
> 
> Also...new power?


	26. Blur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just add more to the confusion!!

**_ So, _ ** **_ she’s been alive all this time. _ **

This couldn’t be true.

**_ And she still left you for four whole years. _ **

“I am here for my son,” His  eomma’s voice was stern, she reached out for his hand. Her skin was just as soft as he remembered, just as warm. “As you can see, I am his mother, I am alive. You will not be getting his inheritance,”

But...none of it seemed to make any sense...

**_ Of course, _ ** **_ it does, your mother doesn’t want you. No one wants you. _ **

“We don’t...we don’t want his inheritance!” Adam’s voice was dark and hard. His grip on Keith tightened, and he dragged the boy back closer to him. "We don’t care about that!”

**_ Pathetic...worthless...stupid waste of space. _ **

None of this was making sense!

The sound of his own dark thoughts blew his parents voices from his mind. His head was aching, throbbing, his eyes straining with the pain of it. He slammed his hands to either side of his head, wanting to block it all out.

No... no...no! This can’t be happening. Why is this happening? This had to be a trick, a ruse, something... he knew it was impossible for anyone to want him. Adam and Shiro had said they wanted to be his parents, Lance was with him,  actually _ cared  _ for him, and now his mother was here. Back from the dead.

How... 

“I... I saw you die!” he cried out, stilling their argument. He didn’t want to hear their excuses, he didn’t want them to try and sugar coat it, and he definitely did not want them fighting over him. Did they not see that he wasn’t worth  it? He wasn’t worth anything.

**_ Worthless... _ **

His  eomma’s eyes widened, she raised her hands on either side of her head and the world around them seemed to slow. Like a movie on slow motion. Everything was a lot quieter now as well, and in some instinctive part of Keith knew his mother had done this for him countless of times before.

He didn’t understand anything, but at least his headache was ebbing away.

“Y... yes. Well...I... I  _ did  _ die.” She paused at that, holding her hands on the table before her, gripping onto the side as she tried to come to terms with everything that had happened to her over the course of the past few days. “I thought we  _ all  _ had.” 

Keith’s thoughts were taken back to the crash, courtesy of his mothers’ thoughts. He knew Shiro was able to hear it as well, and some small part of him was grateful for that. Keith knew he had been through some form of traumatic stress himself, that had lost him his arm. It had been hard for Keith to speak about his past to Adam, but maybe Shiro would be able to understand, to see, to be able to  _ help. _

“Your  appa had tried to keep you safe from the crash, but when the car...hit him,”  Krolia took in a deep breath, her memories invading her senses. Keith too felt like he was back there, sitting in his mother seat time, watching as she was gasping for breath, scared as she grabbed onto his  appa’s hand for the last time. “...he ...he didn’t...make it. And the car swerved and... we  _ had  _ died.”

Shiro’s breath caught in his throat at the memories ricocheting through them, from both Keith and  Krolia’s point of view. The fear they both felt, the pain.

“But before I...”  Krolia’s thoughts were a little blurry, in the overturned car, going in and out of focus, as if she were trying to fight to stay awake. She had turned to see the firefighter take Keith out of the car, watched as he was crying and screaming. She had seen the familiar insignia that his father wore on his work uniform and had felt relief. She knew he would be safe. “Someone dragged you out of the car and I saw it was one of your fathers’ friends from the force, and... I was just glad you were safe,”

Adam leaned  forward; hands pressed on the table. How he managed to take the fact that the world was currently running in slow motion right now and not find it weird was a good thing for all of them. They did not think they could add a  freaked out Adam on top of everything else. 

“How are you here now?”

“I. .. I don’t know.”  Krolia’s nose scrunched up at that, and her memories turned completely foggy, as if she herself was trying to remember something, like she was trying to remember a dream rather than her memories. They were there, but just slightly out of reach.

“I knew Keith had gone into the ambulance,” she stated, as if trying to recheck the steps in her head to try and remember what had really happened. “And someone had come for my husband. They took him out of the car, and another came for me.” Keith felt the headache that rushed to his  eomma . It was like a  high pitched drone, like the sound of nails swiping against a chalkboard. Shiro’s grunt had shown he too had heard it. “I don’t remember much, but I don’t think I went to the hospital.”

_ ‘Someone has tampered with her memories’ _

“What?” Keith’s eyes widened, his gaze darting to Shiro. You could do that? Who would do something like that? And to his mother? Why?

“I don’t...I don’t know, after that...”  Krolia sucked in a breath, as if she had just realized how crazy everything currently was. As if she hadn’t  _ known  _ she had been gone for four whole years. “I remember waking up a few days ago in a hospital room, and...” 

She shook her head, her thoughts jumbling up more and more, jumping from one thing to another, as if she were trying to piece together what had really happened. But they all just fell into one thing, she had fallen  unconscious in the car, and had woken up at the hospital.

It was as if the four years in between hadn’t even happened.

What was going on?

“I just knew you hadn’t...” She sucked in a breath, shaking her thoughts as if it would help her. It didn’t. She instead focused her gaze on Keith, “It was like there was something inside me that told me that you were still alive, still here,” Her hand reached out again, and this time Keith reached for her as well. “And I was right.” Her smile was warm and bright, just like he remembered it. “I searched and searched, I looked everywhere, and found out you had been put into a foster home?” 

Adam narrowed his gaze at the woman,  sceptical at her words. “They do that when the child turns into an orphan,”

“But...I...”  Krolia’s glared at Adam. “I’m here, I haven’t...Keith’s not an orphan,” she paused, sucking in a breath as everything seemed to fall into place. “How long have I been out for?”

Keith’s grip on her hand tightened. “Four years,  eomma . You’ve been dead for four years,”

“No...no that can’t be true,” 

Keith nodded. “I saw them bury you and  appa , you...both died.”

Krolia shook her head, forcing her thoughts to return to that night of the crash, trying to piece together everything she had seen, trying to understand. But everything after her husband was pulled out of the car, after she felt arms around her shoulders, under her arms, and someone drag her out of the burning wreck of their family car...

...everything was blurred.

It couldn’t be true.

“Keith was an orphan for four years,” Adam stated slowly, his voice comforting and supportive. “Until we adopted him,”

“We didn’t know about his past,” Shiro added quietly, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Or his inheritance, and frankly, we don’t care about that. All we saw was Keith. He’s ours...but...we know you’re his mother,”

Krolia’s eyes wettened, “I...” she chocked, unsure of what to say. “I put you through so much, my little kitten, If I had known...”

It struck Keith that this was the moment, the moment where he could potentially make or break his mothers’ heart. On the one hand, this was his mother and he wanted to do nothing more than to run to her and curl up in her arms and forget the past four years. 

But on the other hand, she had...he had seen her die, he had watched them die, had had to bury them at such a young age. And then he had been thrown all over the place, been given to people who had sickening thoughts about him and his money, about what they would use him for, use him as. And then he had been forced into Miss Hagger’s House.

She had left him there.

He...didn’t know what to do.

Shiro squeezed his shoulders. “I think we all need some time, why don’t we all go back to the house and talk about this,”

Adam pursed his lips but nodded. “ Krolia , you are welcome to stay in our home for now,”

Krolia nodded, holding her hands out as she had done before and the time continued in its normal pace. The world suddenly got louder and Keith let out a sigh.

He  wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, what does someone do when they think their parents have been killed, go through hell, and then get adopted by a lovely family, only for their parents to not be dead?
> 
> Poor Keith.


	27. Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of cute Klance moments...  
> Moonlit strolls are always a good choice.

Keith sat on the circular bench in the front garden, leaning back against the blossom tree and contemplating for the nth time as to what he was supposed to do now. They had returned to Adam and Shiro’s house, with his mother in toe. They had had an awkward dinner and  Krolia had been given the guest room alongside Keith – his mother had been adamant that she spend time with her son.

But Keith just... he had to get away for the moment. He needed to...he needed to think. It was so strange. Nothing was making sense to him. 

The stars twinkled in the sky and he sighed.

Damn it. Nothing was making any sense!

He turned when he saw a familiar face appear at the picket fence before him, the screeching of bike tyres against the pavement and a head of spiky brunette hair. Keith was glad that had had stepped out for that moment, hidden within the blossom tree. 

He missed Lance.

“What are you doing up so late?” Lance asked, getting off his bike and leaning it up against the fence. He pushed the gate open, making his way to Keith. 

_ Waiting for you to distract me _ , Keith looked back. “I could ask you the same thing,”

Lance held up the bag filled with what looked like bread and a bottle of milk, and set it on the bench next to him. He sat on the bench a few ways away from Keith, holding a hand to his heart. 

“Were you...” He paused, leaning in closer. “Crying again?”

Keith glared at him, and  Lance felt his heart break. 

“I am not crying,” He muttered, not looking at him.  Lance ’s heart shattered and he lost his breath, he wanted –  _ needed  _ – to comfort him.

“Keith,” He murmured, wanting to reach out to the man, but knowing he shouldn’t. “Baby, I’m here for you, you know you can tell me anything, we’re boyfriends, right?”

Keith looked away, hand playing with his bracelet. “I’m not crying,”

“You can always confide in me.” Lance murmured, holding his hand out to the man, hoping, and wishing he’d take it. “I’ve heard I have an excellent shoulder for crying on,”

Keith seemed lost in thought. Sighing, Lance stood up and walked over to the edge of the bench, leaning on the railing. “The stars are very pretty tonight,”

Keith looked up, but didn’t respond.

Lance narrowed his gaze, accepting the challenge to make him talk. He stretched out and leaned onto the railings. “The moons really big tonight, I’ve never seen it so close,”

Silence followed and Lance sighed. Keith looked back and gasped. Lance’s pale skin was glowing against the moonlight, gods he looked so beautiful like this. Keith was so perfect, and Lance...he looked down at himself and sighed. He wasn’t. It was too...hard. He wouldn’t be able to make him talk. Keith barely liked him, they had only just. And he...

“Don’t you just wish you could fly to the moon?”  Keith whispered quietly, looking up to the moon. “Just get away from all your worries and problems,”

Lance smiled at his response, glad that he was talking. He gazed up at the moon again. “It’s very pretty, but it would get awfully lonely, don’t you think?”

Keith looked at the moon, as if contemplating something. “Then come with me,”

Lance ’s breath caught in his throat, his cheeks turning a bright pink. Keith didn’t just say that to him, did he?

“We can’t go to the moon,”  Lance said, not daring to look back at him. He heard Keith stand from his place and walk over, leaning on the railings. “It’s too far away,”

“Not for me,”  Keith said, smiling at him. “I know a place where you can touch the moon,”

Intrigued,  Lance pouted. “Really?” Keith nodded. “And you’d take me there?”

His smile made Lance melt. “You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

Lance turned, gazing heartbroken at Keith’s grieving face waiting with anticipation. He’d never reject Keith. Never! “I’ll go anywhere with you Keith,”

“Then, let’s go.” Keith took hold of his hand, and Lance felt as if his world was tilting. What his touch did to him...

“Where are you taking me, Keith?”  Lance asked, being dragged back into the house. “It’s almost two in the morning,”

“We’re going to the moon,”

~~

Lance gazed around, astonished at the beauty of the world at night. There was an old guitar player strumming through chords as if trying to pick a tune to play, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He bowed his head to the two, returning back to his playing.

The park was completely empty, the moonlight reflecting against the large fountain sitting at the very centre of the large meadow. The same fountain where Lance had given him the bracelet he was wearing. The moonlight swayed in the waters of the large lake like fountain. There was a statue of three women twirling around in the middle of the fountain, arched out as if they were having the time of their lives.

“So?”  Keith asked, looking hopeful.

Lance spun around in the beauty, the slight strumming of the guitar player making the scene that much more romantic.

“It's amazing!” He smiled brightly, stopping in front of  Keith . His heart skipped a beat at  Keith ’s serious expression. Sinful and decadent.

And then Keith moved over to him. Lance was completely captivated by him. He swallowed loudly. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He glanced over to find Keith’s deep purple eyes focused on him with interest. 

Keith didn’t look away. 

Instead, he boldly swept Lance’s body with his gaze. One corner of his mouth lifted as if he enjoyed what he saw. An unexpected rush burned through Lance. It was potent and hot, and it made him want to have the guts to reach out and kiss those finely shaped lips of his.

Still  Keith stared at him.

Lance shifted nervously as his body heated up even more. His body clenched and throbbed, aching for Keith to do something other than look. He sucked in a quick breath and sought to move himself. He held his hand out, asking Keith silently to dance.

It was like out of a fairy tale. 

Lance was the first to snap out of his daze, burying his face in his hands to attempt to gain a bit of control over the situation that had suddenly spun out of control. He shouldn't have agreed to come here with him. But who was he  kidding? He would go to the ends of the earth for his  _ estrellas _ .

Keith kept his eyes glued on the floor, not even needing to look up to feel Lance’s probing gaze; those beautiful blue eyes were intense. He also didn’t want to look up for fear of getting trapped gazing at him again and making a fool of himself – Lance shouldn’t be allowed to look that good.

The playful smile worked across his face again. “You look…stunning.”

Keith reddened, and Lance seemed greatly amused by that, his eyes glittering in laughter. Keith was struck once again by the change in him – not holding any secrets back in the depths of his eyes, but completely carefree and innocent. He could still see the hooded gleam of Lance's eyes, shining in the bright moonlight.

Dazzling. 

When the guitarist played a tune softly into the meadow, Lance and Keith glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. Lance held his hand out again, waiting for Keith to accept.

Keith nodded, unable to tear his gaze from his electrifying gaze, he took hold of Lance's hand, sizzling electricity fissured through him at the slightest touch as Lance escorted him to the circular path. Lance tried to speak, but then Keith put an arm around his waist, taking his other hand…and effectively silencing him. Quickly remembering what he had been taught about waltzing, Lance placed his other arm around Keith’s wide shoulders.

Keith didn’t know how to reply to that for a moment. He never would have fallen for Lance …or would he have? Oh, who was he kidding? They had barely talked…Lance probably didn’t even know he existed. He knew this was going to get out of hand, yet he couldn’t help but hold Lance close to him and sway to the ephemeral music. 

Lance wasn’t sure what to do when Keith pulled him slightly closer…it was just for one of the dance steps, but still. He resolved on simply keeping his eyes on his feet to make it seem as if he were making sure that he was doing the dance right, even though the steps seemed to come naturally to him. 

Or maybe that was because of  Keith ?

As the end came near, the final small interlude, Lance once again pulled Keith back close to him, turning him around so that it was Keith's back pressed against his chest. At least he wasn’t looking at Lance, but…

Lance spun him around again, making Keith face him. Lance kissed him softly on his forehead and continued to sway slowly with Keith in his arms, marvelling at the way he fit perfectly into them, and how the top of Keith’s head fit just below his chin when the smaller man laid his head against his shoulder. Lance held him tighter as he curled their clasped hands in, resting Keith’s palm flat against his chest. Keith closed his eyes as Lance softly hummed the melody into his ear, and smiled, losing himself completely in the man.

Lance pressed closer to him, eagerly seeking his warmth as Keith’s lips found his skin and caressed his lips ever so lightly, like a shy lover. His arms were still around  Lance , those warm hands feeling his back, his waist, his neck, his hair.

This was right...this was perfection.

The song had finally reached its end. Turning a shade of pink,  Lance retracted from Keith. He raised his gaze over to the enigmatic man, his arms wrapped  marvellously around him.  Lance fanned himself with his hand. Covering his face, he felt his cheeks grow hot and his stomach jump in falling excitement.

“Thank you,”  Keith murmured to him. “Whenever I’m with you, I forget all the bad things,”

Lance looked up, surprised that he wasn't confused. A faint smile reached his lips at the thought. “I’m glad I could help.”


	28. Naui Byeol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I have no explanations.  
> I have been depressed, and it's been...a weekend.  
> My therapist (because it did indeed get that bad) told me to 'vent my frustrations in a creative way' but I won't sully my stories with my sadness. I might do a YouTube channel where I will tell stories, or do RPG style things, maybe. It's still in the works.  
> Don't quote me on that.
> 
> I wanted to write sweetness, so I did. This chapter was supposed to be lore heavy, but that'll have to happen tomorrow, or later.
> 
> I'm sorry! I'm trying my hardest to stay daily, but life is just not being kind to me right now. I will continue to do my best with your lovely support!
> 
> Thank you!

“So... who was that woman at your house?”

Keith stilled, his fingers grasping tighter in Lance’s larger hands. They had been walking back from the lovely night they had shared, dancing by the fountain. The moon had risen high in the skies, streetlights dimly pooling around the streets, leaving the world in a beautiful buttery yellow glow.

He had forgotten all about his current turmoil, being distracted by his sweet boyfriend. So much so that he had completely forgotten that Lance didn’t know that his mother had returned. That his mother wasn’t dead.

Then again, Keith had listened in to what his eomma, his tou-san and abu had been talking about. Well, almost, he wasn’t completely sure what most of it meant, and he had left in between, feelings too overwhelming for him to be able to cope. 

He didn’t understand what was happening. 

He had been glad for Lance’s well timed distraction. He had been so happy to have a moment away from his dizzy thoughts. Dancing with Lance had been amazing, feeling those arms around him, holding him close to his body, his warmth, it had made everything he had been worrying about disappear. 

But he had to come clean. 

“That woman is...my...mother,” he replied slowly, unsure of how Lance would take it. 

Lance nodded, and continued walking along the empty streets. “Oh, that’s...cool.” _‘Huh, Keith’s mother eh? I hope I make a good first impression,’_

Wait. It took Keith a moment. Honestly, it hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that he hadn’t technically told Lance about his parents, or how he had seen them...die. How he had been an... wait, didn’t Lance know he was an orphan? Had...that not come up? How would he explain that, and then explain the woman currently in his house? Nothing was making sense, and Keith wasn’t sure anything would until he spoke to his eomma properly. He needed to get to the bottom of everything that was happening. 

But first, he had to explain to Lance who Krolia really was. 

“She...” he paused, did he really have to? He should, he didn’t want to keep anything away from his...his soulmate – he still felt giddy when he thought that – but he thought it best to figure all of this out himself before he told anyone else. He was sure he’d only confuse himself and Lance with his half-assed explanations. “She’d love to meet you,” 

He knew his eomma had wanted to meet Lance. When she had found out about him – by no fault of his own - her thoughts had been filled with so many things. Mostly on how much she had missed these past four years being gone, of how much Keith had grown, and then they escalated to thoughts on how young he still was to have a boyfriend who seemed so serious. How they needed to have the talk, how she needed to meet this Lance and find out his intentions— 

Yeah, he had left as soon as her thoughts turned to ‘scary mother’ mode. 

“I’d love to meet her too,” Lance murmured, his grip tightening. 

Lance was worried, his heart beat quickened, his palms were sweaty and his thoughts were rushing wildly, so quickly and mostly in Spanish that Keith couldn’t really understand what was happening. But he could definitely tell Lance was worried – _really worried_ – about meeting his mother. 

“You don’t have to do it now,” Keith stated, stopping at the corner of the street leading to his house. He tiptoed up and pressed a kiss to Lance’s cheek. “You can meet her whenever you want, I’m not going anywhere,” 

Lance grinned, nodding and leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, grinning when Keith swooned, knees shaking. He wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist, dipping him back a little. Keith couldn’t help but giggle at his boyfriends’ silly antics. But it made his heart warm, Lance was amazing. 

“Let me drop you home,” he murmured, reluctant to pull away. 

Keith sucked in a breath, but shook his head. “I won’t be able to stop kissing you, if you do,” 

“It’s a good thing you’ve got a boyfriend who can stop time,” He tugged at the hem of his jacket and flexed his hands out on either side of him with a flourish. The grin on his face was breathtaking, and so cocky. It physically made Keith roll his eyes, but he couldn’t help the pounding of his heart. Lance was just too pretty to be real. 

He pushed Lance back, before he too fell into temptation and continued kissing Lance until they both lost their breaths in one another. “Go home, naui byeol,” 

“What does that mean?” Lance sounded as breathless as Keith felt. 

His cheeks reddened and his heart doing double time, he looked away from Lance and mumbled. “It means ‘my star’ in Korean,” 

The sudden eruption of warmth and love and sweetness coming from Lance overwhelmed Keith enough for him to push the taller boy away and turn away with harsh breaths. Oh god, he loved this boy so much. It was nice to know Lance actually felt the same. It was innocent, warm, and so sweet, he never wanted it to end. 

“Na...na-eh, byull.....” 

Keith held back a chuckle at the broken Korean Lance was trying to say. It was so sweet he was trying to learn. He turned around, reaching for Lance’s hands and repeated the endearment to him until the boy got it. 

“Mi estrellas,” he replied, knowing his own Spanish was just as broken, feeling his cheeks ache at how much he was smiling. Only Lance was able to make him feel so happy, so safe. 

“Now that one I know,” Lance replied, pressing kisses to Keith’s face between endearments, “Mi estrellas, mi vida, mi carino,” 

“Stop!” Keith pushed him away again in his embarrassment, and Lance could only laugh, grabbing him and pulling him in for one last kiss. “Okay, we need to get home. It’s really late,” 

Not able to help himself, Lance leaned down for one more kiss, absorbing his sweetness, trying to memorise his taste. They parted slowly, so lost in the moment. Keith didn’t really want him to go, but he knew Lance had to leave, his mother would be worried after all. 

“See you tomorrow?” Lance asked, trailing his hand down Keith’s arm, curling around his wrist. Keith nodded, forcing himself to step away. 

“Tomorrow,” he nodded, walking backwards down the street, unable to stray his gaze away from Lance. He wanted to have good dreams, filled with the way Lance looked at that moment, bathed in the street lights, eyes wide and lost, cheeks brimming pink and lips bruised a little red from their shared kisses. 

It wasn’t until he had to turn a corner on the street that he let himself look away. The street was empty, but he saw his house lights were on, and his mother was standing at the front door, looking directly at him. 

He got closer to the door and sucked in a breath. His eomma had her arms crossed over her chest, and she was giving him a look. 

“We need to talk,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**  
>  naui byeol - my star  
> mi estrellas - my star  
> mi vida - my life  
> mi carino - my sweetheart/my sweety


	29. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my darlings!  
> I am so sorry for the lateness. But I listened to my therapist and have created a Youtube channel to scream into.  
> It's a story telling one, where I'll be reciting stories (some might even be from here as audio), and role playing to fully immerse you in a new world. Kind of like a bed time story.  
> So if you're interested in listening to a new way of reading my fics, or any of the other stories I will have up, please[ click here (shameless plug!) ](https://www.youtube.com/user/SuperAshKi)
> 
> I take requests too!
> 
> But for now!  
> On with the fic!

Talk.

They needed to talk.

He knew everything would be explained if they had a good, long talk about what was going on. But looking up into his  eomma’s hard eyes, the way she stood – so reminiscent of the way she was before she had died – but there was something different about her now, something harder.

Four years had changed them all.

He followed her inside, closing and locking the door behind them. He noticed both Shiro and Adam were sitting on the sofa, watching something on the television. But Keith knew neither of them were paying attention to what was on the screen.

His mother motioned for him to sit at the dining table, a little away from his fathers, giving them privacy, but close enough that they were able to overhear if they wanted to.

Keith took a seat on his usual spot, holding his hands to his lap, fidgeting with his fingers. 

“You look like I’m going to tell you off,” his mother said with a faint smile, pulling the chair out next to him and sitting down. She reached for his hands and held them warmly. “Don’t worry, we’re just going to talk,”

Talk.

They needed to talk.

“No manipulation here,” She chided out, louder than she needed to. And Keith knew she was telling his fathers this, not him. Her attention was fully on him again, and his heart clenched.

On the one hand, this was his mother, she was his eomma. He wanted to run into her arms and hug her and never let go. But at the same time, he had seen her die, he had seen her...he... he was so sure she had died.

How was she here?

“I think you’re old enough for me to tell you the truth about what happened.”

He nodded, gaze not raising up from his lap. He  couldn’t look at her right now, it hurt too much. He needed to know the truth. He needed to figure everything out.

“Firstly, I want you to know that I love you, nae  adeul ,” Oh, it had been so long since he had heard her call him her son. Her grip tightened on his hands, it was motherly, warm, something he thought  he’d never get again. “My beautiful kitten, you’ve grown so much,”

“Eomma...” he swallowed the ball of emotions lodged in his throat. He  didn’t want to cry, he wanted to know what was going on.

“I know you were awake, my kitten,” she  stated , clearing her  throat and trying to act as unemotional as possible, but her voice was cracking. “The accident...I tried; I really did. When your  appa was hit, the protection bubble he created around you vanished,”

Protection bubble...what?

“I had...I had tried, but...” her thoughts were swimming in grief at the memory of her husband in pain, of how she had tried her hardest to reach out for him, for them both. But she  hadn’t been able to do much, she  hadn’t been able to reach him. So instead, she had manipulated their minds, in a way that made the pain go away. Made it so that her hand had reached out and grasped his, that they were together in their last moments, that they died painlessly.

It was a small mercy.

But then she was hit too. The spell had worn off.

“You survived because of your father,” His  eomma stated, “He wasn’t able to protect us all, but he made sure you were okay, he...” -- she sucked in a breath, forcing her emotions down. -- “When I saw you were safe, I. .. I knew I  wasn’t going to survive. I... tried, but...”

Keith gripped at her hand, squeezing it. He could see it, through her thoughts. He could see how she struggled to stay alive, but it was too painful, it hurt so much. She was so tired, she just wanted to take a nap.  So, she had.

“I. .. I woke up in a room, a few months after,” she continued. “There were doctors and nurses everywhere. I thought I was in the hospital. But I was strapped down.” -- Keith tried to stop the assault of her thoughts rushing into his mind, of how she struggled, how scared she was. She had just wanted to get to him, screaming for him, wanting to know what had happened. Where was she, why was she here? Where is my son!

“They...they did things to me,” she let out a breath, curling in on herself as she continued. He wanted to tell her that she  didn’t have to tell him anything, that she could when she was ready. But she pushed that thought away for him. She needed to tell him, she needed to get this out. 

“They took my blood, checked my head, did experiments and tests on me,” she sucked in another brave breath and continued, trying to stay calm though her thoughts were fighting with her, forcing her back to her memories. “I don’t know what they wanted. But I told them nothing. After a while they put me in an induced coma, I... I don’t know why they wouldn’t just let me go.”

Keith sat up a little, reaching out for her. He wrapped his arms around her middle, awkwardly leaning forward and trying to hug her the best he could while she was lost in her thoughts. His eomma was so brave.

“Four years they kept me there,” She said slowly, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close to her chest. God, she smelled the same, her arms were still as warm and welcoming. Keith lost himself in his mother's embrace, his heart clenching with emotions. He  didn’t know he had been crying. “They kept me asleep for most of it, but...I saw him, the one who was doing all of this. I knew his name, saw his face. I was...”

“Who was it that did this to you?” Adam’s voice was hard, coming from the arched door leading to the rest of the house. 

“I... his name is  Zarkon ,” She reiterated, tightening her grip on Keith, as if having him there, in her arms, would keep the monsters in her head away. “And he’s done this before.”

Keith stiffened, body tensing up. That name...it sounded familiar. But he really  didn’t know from where. Why...why had he known that name?

“Sweetheart?”  Krolia pulled him back, gazing down at him with wonder. Seeing him crying, she ran her thumbs across the apples of his cheeks, catching the tears. “I’m sorry, you okay? We can change the subject,”

Keith shook his head, burying his face in his mother's chest again. He felt safe here. He  didn’t want to think right now, he  didn’t want to remember that fateful day, he  didn’t want to know his mother had been in pain, that she had been strapped down and--

“Tell her about Lance,”

Keith looked up to Shiro, his voice breaking through the darkness he was being swallowed up in. He was grateful for the  distraction .

“Yes! Tell me about your little boyfriend,”  Krolia grinned, moving him so he was sitting on her lap. 

A  niggling part of him told him he was too old to be sitting on his mothers’ lap, but he pushed that thought away, wrapping his arms around his mother again and started telling her about Lance, how he met him, what he could do, about the bracelet, about how they were soulmates.

“Oh...oh my god,”  Krolia sniffed, wiping at the tears catching in her eyes. She hugged him tight to her, running her fingers through his hair. “My little kittens all grown up! I need to meet this boy, call him for dinner tomorrow night,” – she paused, gaze darting to the two men standing at the doorway. “Of course, if that’s okay with you two,”

Adam shook his head. “Not a problem, we need to get to know our sons’ soulmate too,”

He  stilled; eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. His thoughts swimming with worry and fear. He had called Keith his son, in front of his mother. He  wasn’t sure how  Krolia would take it, she would  probably want to take Keith back after they had just got him. He  didn’t want to part from his son, he  didn’t want him to go away. They had only just gotten him; they had finally become a lovely little family. But now, she was going to take him away, why  wouldn’t she, she was his real  mother after all .

Keith wanted to reach out to him, wanted him to know, to understand, that in the short few months they had known one another, he had become so important to him. Adam  _ was  _ his father, Shiro  _ was  _ his father. Just as much as his appa was his father and Krolia was his mother.

It was a testament to  Krolia that she  didn’t flinch at Adam calling Keith his son. She squeezed Keith around his middle instead and grinned.

“Your mother  _ and  _ fathers want to meet him,”

Keith felt a light feeling in his chest, it grew and grew until it enveloped him completely. A sweet warmth that made him feel airy and happy. He may have lost his  appa , but he had found him  eomma and his  abu and tou-san.

He was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**  
>  You know the drill of the usual's by now, I hope.
> 
> "nae adeul" - "my son"


	30. Three Parents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you imagine...going to your significant others home to meet the family, and seeing that they have THREE parents you need to impress?  
> Poor Lance.

Lance was not freaking out. Okay! 0 

Standing at the doorway of Keith’s home, taking in the delicious smell of whatever was being made in the house, he felt his heart beat rising. And for a different reason than the reason it had been before – Keith just looked so adorable in his jeans and red pullover with the long sleeves that hid his hands, so sue him! 

Let it be known that Lance was chill, he was calm and collected and cool, and all that. He was not currently wiping the sweat from his hands on his jeans, faking that he was trying to smooth his shirt, or that his heart was thudding a mile a minute, madly enough that his breath was panting, and his eyes were widening with the thoughts running through his mind. So many scenarios where he fucked up somehow, maybe he’d trip and hit the table, making all the food fall all over the floor, and then in his bout to help clean it up, he’d knock on the floor lamp and the bulb would break and then everything would catch on fire, and then there’d be police and the fire brigade and … 

...okay, maybe he was freaking out a little. 

“Relax, naui byeol,” Keith’s hand in his own was a small solace to his tumulus thoughts. “You’re going to be fine,” 

Lance nodded, but he couldn’t get the thought of flashing red and blue lights outside of a burning house out of his mind. 

“You’re not going to burn down the house,” Keith tried to comfort him, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re going to be fine; you’ve already met Shiro and Adam,” 

And that was another thing. He was going to meet Keith’s family. This was a huge step to their relationship; however short it had been. Barely a month! It had been barely a month and yet here he was, meeting Keith’s parents! 

All three of them! 

It was one thing to meet a stereotypical mother and father as a boyfriend of their child. He’d watched enough movies with his siblings to know that usually didn’t go off all too well. Something strange and stupid always happened in those movies. And it usually led to one, or both, of the parents hating him for one reason or another. 

He didn’t want any of them to hate him. He hadn’t known Keith long enough for the boy to pick him over his family if that ever happened. 

“You watch too many movies, darlin’” Keith whispered, gripping Lance’s hand tighter. “You’re going to be fine, I promise, they pretty much love you already,” 

Lance nodded, but again, he couldn’t help himself. He knew it would be hard for anyone to meet their significant others parents, but Keith had three of them. His mother, and his two adoptive fathers. He had to make three people happy with him. 

And Lance knew he wasn’t all that. He may be pretty and exotic and stuff, but what did he even have to give Keith? Other than his stupid time stopping powers, what else could he offer? Nothing. He still didn’t know just how someone as beautiful as Keith would even want to do anything with him. 

He was sure that after today, after he had messed up – yet again for the nth time, because that’s just how he was – Keith would figure out what he was, how stupid and worthless he was, and leave him. Lance didn’t want that to happen, he couldn’t lose Keith. The boy had become such an integral part of him, so quickly – he knew this, this whole thing was so quick, they barely knew each other. But there was just something in him that told him this was right, this was it. 

Keith might leave him. And all because he was going to act like a goof and do something stupid, like he always did. 

The press of Keith’s lips on his own drowned out his thoughts. 

When they parted, Lance let out a breath, looking at Keith’s pretty face, his eyes closed, mouth parted and leaning in closer for another kiss. Ay dios, what did he do to deserve such a wonderful boy in his life? 

“Stop saying things like that about my boyfriend,” Keith grunted, his eyes narrowed in mock anger. However, that façade fell and his eyes widened with worry. “If you don’t want to do this, then you don’t have to, we can do this another time...or not at all. I just want you to be happy,” 

Though he knew Keith was trying to hide it, Lance knew just how much Keith’s makeshift family meant to him. And how much he wanted Lance to be in that family with him. 

Lance sucked in a breath. Oh, how easy it would be to just say no, tell Keith that he didn’t think he was ready for this. That this was too early, too soon, too much. But that would just be his insecurities talking. The ones that made him rethink everything. The ones that had told him not to stop time and go to the pretty boy in the park all those days ago. 

If he had listened to that voice, he wouldn’t be here now. He wouldn’t have Keith by his side. He wanted this, he wanted Keith, he wanted a happily ever after with this boy. 

“No, I... I think we need to do this now, so we can...we can move forward,” 

Reading through his reasoning and his thoughts, Keith nodded. This was just boyfriend jitters – Keith giggled, still so giddy over the fact that Lance was his boyfriend! -- Lance was nervous, that was all. And it culminated to self-depreciating thoughts about himself. 

Keith was going to make sure he was going to be there for Lance every time he had such thoughts, to show him that he cared for him, that he loved him and didn’t think anything else than that Lance was wonderful, and beautiful, both inside and out, and nothing would ever change that. 

“You ready?” 

Squeezing his hand, Lance nodded. 

Yup. He was ready. Ready to have Keith in his life for as long as the boy wanted him. 

They made their way to the living room, where Lance saw Shiro placing plates on the large dining table in the other section of the room. He noticed them – though Lance had an inkling he had already known he was here – and ushered them over. Placing the rest of the plates in their place on the table, he turned to Keith and Lance, nodding to them. 

“Thanks for coming at such short notice,” 

“Do you need any help?” Lance asked. 

Shiro shook his head, taking a large dish from Adam’s hands as he walked into the room. “It’s almost done, why don’t you two sit down and we can start?” 

Nodding, both Keith and Lance sat down next to each other on the table. Keith didn’t need to be able to read Lance’s mind to know just how nervous he was feeling. Reaching for him, he placed a hand on his thigh and squeezed it. 

“Breathe,” he whispered, grinning as Adam returned with another dish of colourful rice. He placed that in front of them, while Krolia came up behind him, placing a few more delicious looking dishes on the table. 

They all took their seats around the two, and Lance felt his heart beat race. Adam sat opposite him, giving him a calm smile, Shiro next to him, and Krolia – surprisingly, or not surprisingly – took the seat at the end of the table. 

This was it. 

Quiznak. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear...
> 
> I just want to give a shout out to all my darling readers who have really helped me in this trying time I'm having. I am really thankful for all of your messages and well wishes. They really are making my whole world right now. I'm still not fully recovered, and honestly, my mental health may never be, but I have hope that I will be able to take all the bad news I'm getting and make something good out of it.
> 
> I know I can do this, and I will do my best!  
> Thank you, all of you, once again! You all rock, and I love you all with everything I have. Like legit, let me bake you all cakes or cookies or whatever you like. (Have some virtual baked goods for now)


	31. What If

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was supposed to update over the weekend, but my family decided this would be the best time to...change the wallpaper, and paint everything.  
> ...everything in my body...hurts...
> 
> On with the show.
> 
> Can you just imagine.  
> Keith; "Lance, I want you to meet my eomma, Krolia, my abu, Adam and my 'tou-san, Shiro"  
> Lance: O.o'' eheh-hey...

Ay dios mio. 

¡Por favor déjame superar esto! 

His hands were sweaty. His heart was beating so madly he was sure the others could hear it. His grip on the fork tightened and he let out a breath. He could do this, he could. 

Think about who this is for. Turning to look at Keith, who was sitting next to him, his cheeks tinged an adorable shade of pink, and his body trembling, he looked so cute and adorable. He looked beautiful. 

He’s so worth this. 

Lance couldn’t wait for the moments after this dinner, hopefully everyone would like him by then. He hadn’t done anything weird or bad as of yet. And he hoped if he just kept up with it, he’d be able to get through this. And then he’d get a chance to be alone with Keith, hopefully they would be able to de-stress and he’d be able to go back home happy, not with the world on his shoulders, like he felt right now. 

Keith’s hand on his knee was a nice solace, a good distraction. He really wanted to reach for his hand and hold it, to drag him close and cuddle him. He needed it for himself, to be able to feel Keith under him, around him, _with him._ Because he was finding it difficult to breathe. And he wanted his breathing to be heavy for different reasons. 

Someone cleared their throat and Lance’s eyes widened. What the quiznak had he been thinking? There were two people who could read his mind on the table here! He wasn’t sure about Adam or Krolia, but he was sure there were only three ‘skilled’ people at the table. 

Fuck, they had heard him rambling. Oh dios, he wasn’t going to live this down! 

Krolia – please call me Krolia and not Mrs. Kogane, Lance, it’s quite alright – sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing. 

Fuck, maybe she could hear his thoughts too. 

She placed her knife and fork down on the plate. He focused on his own plate, he had eaten half of the rice and chicken, it had tasted delicious, but his chest was twisting in nervous knots, and though he tried his hardest to finish it, he just couldn’t stomach anything. 

“So... tell me about yourself?” 

Oh god. Oh no. Eso es todo. Lo siento mami, he sido una mala persona. Esto no va a terminar bien. This is how he was going to die. 

“Lance,” Keith’s voice was calm, his hand heavy and warm on Lance’s thigh. He imitated a long breath, and Lance followed, sucking in deep and letting it out. Yeah, okay, he was feeling calmer. 

...a little...too calm. His eyelids drooped and he felt a goofy smile rise to his lips. He felt a little loopy, a little light headed, oooh ...this was...something else. He was...was he high? 

“Eomma, stop. He’s fine,” 

The happy and calm feeling suddenly stopped, and Lance felt like he had plummeted into a chill. Keith’s mum was able to manipulate his emotions? That is _so cool,_ and yet _so not fair!_

Keith squeezed his knee again, apologetically. “Sorry,” 

“I just wanted him to relax,” 

Adam placed his fork down. “I think he’s doing very well, considering the situation,” 

Krolia pursed her lips. “I just wanted him to not be scared, obviously he cares a lot about our son, if he’s this nervous now, then what will he be like when they decide to be more serious, or when they get married-” 

“Eomma!” 

“I think it’s a little too early to be talking about something like that,” Shiro’s voice was soothing, but it was hard. “They are only children,” 

“He’s twelve, and has a soulmate,” Krolia rebutted, not really butting heads with the two, just making observations, Lance noticed. They weren’t arguing, just talking. About him, about his future, about his and _Keith’s_ future. Together. 

“Exactly, they are children.” Shiro placed a hand calmly on the table. “They’re in love, Krolia. They aren’t going off to war, or thinking about having their own kids. The boys are still in school,” 

Krolia piped in calmly. “And, with Lance in school, what if he finds someone else? Keith isn’t currently in classes; will we need to transfer him? Will he be able to? What if they think the other is too much work? What if their abilities are too much for one another? What if they break up? What if they decide to stay together for the long term? What if they move away?” 

Adam shook his head, clearly used to people rambling with ‘what ifs’ in his line of work. “We can’t be too sure what’ll happen,” 

“Exactly,” Krolia stated. “They aren’t normal kids, what if someone finds out about them and... _o ileon,_ what if my babies are hurt?” 

“Stop, guys! Come on!” Keith cried, standing up. “This is too much too soon! I love him, that’s all there is to it. We’ve not even been on a proper date! Can’t we just stop this?” 

“Calm down!” 

Lance couldn’t take this. He had already lost his mind with nerves by just sitting here and trying his hardest to talk quietly, listen intently as the others spoke – not that had done much of that before. They just sat there, the sound of the knives and forks against cutlery, and a few murmurs of someone complimenting the food. 

It had been so different to what he was used to back home, where it was hard to get a word in edgewise, with his mother telling everyone to eat, his father telling them a story, and his siblings ribbing or teasing him, and a few of the younger cousins crying, or playing with their food. 

It was always jovial and loud and happy, and loud. And yet this... this was strange, but nice in a way. He was able to sit here and appreciate the food. He was able to have a nice, quiet moment with everyone. Not that he didn’t adore his family dinners, but this was nice too. 

Well, not at the moment, not with the way the butterflies in his stomach were fluttering so harshly, his palms still sweaty with nerves. He knew he was going to mess up, he already had. Krolia had to stop him from going off by calming his nerves. Adam and Shiro were trying to defend him and his relationship with Keith. Keith was trying to get them to stop. And all Lance could do was sit there... 

Why couldn’t he do anything right! 

He needed to get out of here. He raised his hand up, twisting it slightly and the world started to slow down again. He just needed time to breathe, he just needed a moment to recollect his thoughts. 

“No...wait-!” 

Keith’s voice was a solace. But he didn’t need it right now. He just needed...he needed to...to...yell at him. 

“Quiznaking hell,” He cried, standing up and slamming his hands down onto the table. The table shook, but the cutlery stayed where it was. “How the hell am I supposed to relax?” He turned to Keith, seeing his gorgeous eyes wide, filled with uncertainty, the way his hand reached for him, bracelet shining under the artificial lights. Lance grasped at it, placing his forehead on it, not able to look into those eyes without drowning. 

“God damn it, the first time you tell me you love me, and it's to your mother?” he groaned, looking back up into those god damn eyes. “I love you too, so much. I know it’s strange, I know it’s too quick,” 

Keith’s hilted voice rushed through him. “Un-freaking-pause me, you dumbass, so I can tell you in person,” 

He grinned, he twirled a finger and suddenly Keith was falling from the chair and into his waiting arms. Oh, the feel of him, so warm and soft and safe. 

“I love you,” Keith murmured, voice muffled in his chest. “I’m sorry you have to go through this, I didn’t think...” he looked up then, leaning in closer, close enough to kiss him. “I didn’t think they’d get to marriage so quickly,” 

“Obviously they see just how serious two twelve year old's’ can be about one another,” Lance replied, playing with the bracelet around his wrist, grinning at the engravings. 

“I don’t know if we will...last that long,” his grip tightened, as if the very thought of being apart for even a second was the worst thing in the world. “But...when she started talking about our future...” 

Lance didn’t need to be able to read his mind to understand what he meant. He’d be lying if he didn’t think that Keith would be in his future, they were both in it for the long run. They were young, yes, and a lot could change. But for now, they were two kids, in love with one another. And that was enough for them now. 

“I’m sorry my eomma tried to change your...you know,” Keith grumbled, wrapping his arms around Lance’s waist, pressing his face into his chest. “I tried to tell her not to...” 

“It’s okay,” Lance replied, running his hands through Keith’s hair, marvelling at just how soft they were. How was that even possible with a hairstyle that looked so _old?_

“Hey...” Keith’s muffled reply made him smile. “You...you okay to go again? Or...would you prefer...leaving?” 

The tightness of Keith’s hug wasn’t the only thing keeping Lance from running out the door. He nudged the smaller boys head, making him look up. Lance could see the emotions running through his mind. Nerves, and a fear that he would actually leave. Instead, Lance ducked his head down, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He would have liked to continue, but he thought against it. 

You need to go through the hardship to get the reward after all. Not that being with Keith was any kind of hardship. 

“Okay, let’s do this.” 

Keith nodded, returning back to his seat and Lance followed in suit, straightening out his outfit one last time, and then twisted his hand again. The world continued to move again and the sudden rush was back as well. 

“Calm down!” Adam’s voice broke through the sudden silence. He stood up suddenly grinning at the two and then to Krolia. “Now, I believe Lance needs to answer the question, right?” 

“Que...question?” 

Adam settled back in his seat, the other two having calmed down enough as well. He placed his hands on the table, one on top of the other, and leaned in close to the boy sitting opposite him. 

“Tell us about yourself, Lance,” 

Lance sucked in a breath, he took one quick look to Keith, seeing him smiling and nodded. With Keith by his side, he could do anything, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**
> 
> Ay dios mio. - Oh my god  
> ¡Por favor déjame superar esto! - Please let me get through/over this!  
> Eso es todo. Lo siento mami, he sido una mala persona. Esto no va a terminar bien. -  
> That's it. Sorry mom, I've been a bad person. This is not going to end well.  
> o ileon - oh god
> 
> As always, if my translations suck, please tell me so I can correct them!
> 
> Just a quick one for those who have read my other fics. I will be updating my Destiel fic, [Carnival Clown and Cannibal Cook](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11233650/chapters/25103904) as audio chapters on [my Youtube channel ](https://www.youtube.com/user/SuperAshKi/)for Halloween coming up soon. Seven chapters for seven weeks until Halloween...check them out, uploaded sometime this week, if you're interested.


	32. Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am... so sorry.

“You gonna be okay getting home?” 

Lance nodded at Keith’s question, ducking a little to press a quick kiss to the corner of his lips. Dinner had surprisingly gone off okay after the panic attack Lance had had. They had asked him questions, which he found a little difficult to answer – after all, he was only a kid, he didn’t really know what he wanted to be when he grew up. But he had told them what he had wanted, to be a marine biologist, or work with the sharks – he was fascinated by them after all. 

The others seemed to like it enough to move on. He no longer felt like he was being interrogated. And by the time dessert had been eaten, Lance actually felt like a part of the family. 

They had spoken about Keith meeting his family, which Lance had ramped up Lance’s worry. But Keith looked so excited at the aspect, that he nodded. It _was_ going fast, but again, Lance didn’t want it to stop. 

So, they planned to meet his family next weekend, giving Lance ample enough time to work up the courage to tell his family that he was seeing someone and it was serious – though he suspected his mother already knew, what with her actually giving Lance the bracelet which Keith wore with such pride on his wrists. 

They had also planned a date to the aquarium as well, which Lance was very excited for. He couldn’t wait to show Keith the sharks, and tell him all about them. 

“I’ll be fine, mi estrallas,” Lance grinned, pressing another kiss to his lips, sulking that he had to stop so soon. “I only live a few streets down,” 

“I don’t know why...” Keith seemed fidgety, grasping at Lance’s shirt. “It’s weird but...I don’t want you to...to go,” 

Lance beamed, cooing at the adorable way Keith was being. How could someone be so cute. 

“I’ll see you after school tomorrow?” he tried, and Keith nodded, slow to release his boyfriend. 

He kissed Keith one last time, hoping this would be enough for now to console the smaller boy. But Keith didn’t seem to be relaxed by it. He still looked fidgety and worried. 

“Be careful,” he murmured, unsure of why he was being so clingy all of a sudden. He felt like there was something thick lodged in his throat, something that told him to haul Lance back into the house and not let him leave until the feeling went away. 

But that wasn’t right. This was strange. Why _was_ he feeling like this? Like there was some kind of impending doom about to happen. He blamed it on the night they had had. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll text you as soon as I get home,” he replied. “And then in the morning, okay?” 

Keith nodded, tiptoeing up to kiss Lance again. He just couldn’t get enough of the boy. Lance giggled into it, leaning away and giving Keith finger guns. He looked down at what he was doing, as if he hadn’t noticed. He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. 

Keith grinned. He was so in love with this dork. 

“Tomorrow then,” Lance said, nodding and forcing himself away. 

Keith nodded. “Tomorrow.” 

He watched as Lance walked down the garden and closed the gate to the property. He continued watching until Lance had walked down the street and turned the corner, out of sight. 

He would have walked Lance half way, like they had done the night before, but he had to speak with his parents, and he knew he probably wouldn’t leave as quickly as he should have. Kissing Lance was amazing after all. 

Once he was sure he could no longer see Lance, he closed the door and lay his back against it. Holding a hand to his chest, he grimaced. The feeling was still there. Like something bad was going to happen. 

He hoped it wasn’t too bad. 

Lance couldn’t help the grin on his face as he made his way back home. 

Though they had only been going out for less than a month, he couldn’t help but feel elated and excited every time he got a chance to see Keith. Even with all of the horrid things that had happened, like the accident, he really liked going to Keith’s house after school, meeting him and they’d just sit and talk. 

There never really was a topic that they settled on, it was just something they did, they’d talk about everything until Lance had to go back home. Sometimes they played video games – which Lance was a champ at – and sometimes they watched movies. 

Lance didn’t really count them as dates. Especially when both Adam and Shiro would walk in on them, offering snacks and things like that. 

It was nice, and it was reminiscent of what he would expect when bringing home his boyfriend or girlfriend back to his own house. But it did stop any make out sessions Lance had wanted. 

Not that he hadn’t abused his time stopping ability to try and get some time alone with his boyfriend. Though that required concentration sometimes, and Keith and those quiznaking lips always made him lose his damn mind. 

It was also very unhelpful that he had a boyfriend who could read his mind. Though at the same time, he loved that Keith could. They didn’t need to keep any secrets; they didn’t have to pretend to do something to keep the peace in their new relationship. They just were, together and happy. 

He shivered against the cool breeze, wondering why he hadn’t worn his jacket before going to Keith’s house. He turned down the quiet path that led him back to his house and walked along the quiet streets. 

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the rustling in the trees and dense undergrowth beside him, ignoring it as his neighbour's cat. She was always running around trying to spook him on his walks home after all. She was probably running after a squirrel or something. 

Lance had been scared by her one too many times. 

He should have known better this time. 

Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around his waist, pushing him forward and pinning him to the wall. The person took both of his arms and forced them together, their grip strong enough that he couldn’t move his fingers, couldn’t stop time to save himself. 

How...what was happening? 

Thick, cold metal chains wrapped around his wrists, looping around his arms, but Lance couldn’t see who was doing this. He tried to scream, hoping that one of the residents would hear him and come to help, but the figures hand clapped over his mouth. 

“Don’t scream, and try not to struggle,” the voice said harshly into his ear. “Not that you’ll be able to do anything with these chains,” 

Lance growled, the blood in his veins running cold as his stomach fell into a bottomless pit. He tried to move his fingers, his hand, now that the figure had let go. But he found he couldn’t do it. Time didn’t stop. 

He tried to peer behind him, the figure looked human, but he was blurred out, like a weird glitch, golden eyes watched him though, smirking. Lance eyes widening as he recognised the man. 

He screamed through the fingers on his mouth. This was the man who had pushed Keith into the streets when the car had hit them. Another similar glitched figure emerged from the trees. He was several inches taller than the man holding him hostage. 

Lance cried out again, struggling in the hold. Helpless. Tears streaming from his eyes as he tried to do something. But the chains prevented him from using his abilities, and the hand on his mouth only muffled his screams. He was stuck here. 

He should have stayed with Keith. 

The second man drew a piece of cloth from his pockets, but he seemed to hesitate. Lance noticed, maybe he could work with that. If he ever got out of here. The man holding him said something angrily at him, but Lance couldn’t hear anything, it was like he was drowning, the sounds and his sight distorted. The cloth was tied tightly to his eyes, but not painfully. 

The man holding him loosened his grip on his mouth, but before Lance could make a sound, there was another cloth stuffed into his mouth and tied with yet another, so he couldn’t push it out. The cloth covering his eyes became heavy with his tears. 

Lance struggled, taking the opportunity, and ran blindly forward. He felt a stab of pain at his shins as his feet were kicked from beneath him. Stars danced behind his closed eyes as he hit the ground with a painful thud. As the stars faded to black, he could hear the two men arguing. 

He was hauled to his feet. “Try that again, and you'll regret it,” 

“You sure this is the boyfriend?” The other man said, before their voices were muffled again. 

Lance’s eyes widened. They...they wanted Keith? 

He heard the second man walk away as his heart fluttered and his stomach fell even further south. He felt the man’s hot breath on his neck and a sick whisper in his ear. “Now, be a good little boy and you and your little boyfriend won’t get hurt,” He laughed harshly and Lance cried harder. 

The sound of a car pulling up in front of them. Lance was forced into it, despite struggling. Soon he was lying on the floor of the back seat of the car, bound and gagged. 

“When I get out of this, I will kill you all.” he growled through his gag. 

They drove in silence for what seemed like hours to Lance, but in reality, it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. The vibrations coming through the floor of the car bounced the already sore Lance painfully. From the soreness of his limps, his hysteria of what was happening and him exhausting himself by trying to use his abilities through the chains, Lance was fading in and out of consciousness. 

He had tried to project his thoughts out to Keith, knowing it was probably futile. But it had happened before, Keith had been able to break through his time stops, maybe he could at least do this.

‘Keith! I’ve been kidnapped!’ he had tried, telling him what had happened, hoping Keith could hear him, hoping he could figure out what was happening. ‘They tied me up with some kind of chains and I can’t use my powers,’ 

Again, and again, and again, he tried. It was only after he had almost given up hope that he heard something. Something so small, so quiet, but it was there. 

_‘Don’t...naui byeol, breathe...knew something...I’m...coming...’_

Tears trickled slowly down his soaked cheeks. He didn’t know what was happening. But Keith knew. Keith was coming! 

The car came to a stop then. He felt strong hands grab him and haul him to his feet. His stiff legs were unable to support his weight, and he was sure he would have fallen onto the ground had the man not caught him. He was lifted to his feet again, his legs shaking but holding him upright. 

The ground below him felt like gravel. If he wasn’t able to see, then he would project to Keith what he could feel, what he could smell. Hopefully that would be enough. 

‘I can hear water; we might be by a river or canal.’ He tried to project his thoughts as loud as he could. ‘Two men...no, three now. I think. It smells like fish...’ 

He felt a thwack on the back of his head as his world then turned into darkness. 


	33. Blades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new character appears.
> 
> I was going to post this up yesterday, but family man. Sometimes they really get to you. It's not nice knowing they wished you weren't born.  
> So, I'm sorry its a shorter one this time. But I hope you like it anyway.  
> The bad guys plot thickens a little.

Lance forced open his eyes and saw... 

...a meadow? What the hell? Where was he? Looking around, he saw scattered trees, beautiful skies and a shining sun. But everything seemed...off, the sun never did shine just that brightly, and wasn’t that warm. The gentle breeze wasn’t usually this relaxing, like it was dancing along to a melody. 

There was something so weird that he knew it wasn’t real. But when he was forcibly wrenched away from the dreamlike world, he wished he hadn’t opened his eyes. 

Not that he could. There was a hot and tight fabric tied tight over his eyes. It was dark, thought that could just be from the blindfold, and smelled damp, that he could feel. He tugged his arms and found they were tied tight to his back, tight enough that he couldn’t feel or move his fingers. The ropes and ties were so tight wrapped over his arms and along his chest and waist, so he could not move at all. The course material was biting into his skin. 

Lance tried to get some form of vision, tried to move his hands, his fingers, anything. Maybe if he struggled enough, he could force himself out. But it was to no avail. 

The sound of water dripping onto a stone floor was slowly making him insane. The lack of noise was deafening. Unable to see or feel around him, fear seeped into him. He needed to get out of here. 

He heard the creaking of a door to his right, his head turning to the sound, body jolting with fear. The sound of wood scraping against stone was a haven to the unearthly silence, yet it was so loud, he wished he could do something, anything.

“Oh look, he’s awake.” The voice was calm, low and deep. It chilled Lance to the core. 

He heard footsteps echoing into the darkness, and a rustling of cloth coming close to him, but then it was ebbing away. 

He really wished he could see. 

What was going on? Where was he? Who was this person? What did he want from him? 

A second voice caused Lance alarm. “He doesn’t seem...all that powerful, will he bring the boy?” 

“He’s only a child,” the first voice stated, “Think of what he will become when we break him.” Lance growled low in his throat, but gasped when a smooth hand grasped his chin, lifting it up harshly to look into his eyes. “He will be the one who will bring me my little pet,” 

Lance glared at the darkness, spitting on the man. He grinned when he heard the man growl, gasping when he slapped him harshly on his cheek. 

“You will pay for that,” the man’s growl sent a wave of chills through him. “You are his weakness, you will give me what I want,” 

Lance felt the man leave, the footsteps ebbing away. “Your precious boyfriend will be so surprised when he sees what I have in store for him,” 

Keith...not Keith. Leave him alone, you _puta!_

He heard the rustling of cloth get further and further away, followed by the sound of the door creaking open and shut. The slight whoosh of cold air made Lance shiver. He wanted to scream out, but his mouth was struck silent as the door was locked. 

Lance, blindfolded and completely chained to the chair, heard a shuffle of cloth next to him. He wasn’t alone here. 

“Who are you?” A young girls’ voice asked. God, she didn’t sound older than ten years old! 

Lance turned to the right, where he heard the girls speak. He tried to look calm, regardless of how frightened he really was.

“My names Lance, what’s yours?” he said, unsure of who he was speaking to. But maybe she could help him, maybe they could help one another. She sounded like she was stuck somewhere, metal chains clanging against metal bars. 

She was...caged in. Why? 

“A...Acxa...Acxa, my name is Acxa,” 

Ay dios, she sounded frightened. “It’s alright, Axca. Don’t be afraid. I’ll find a way out of here,” 

He heard another shuffle, followed by a whimper, and he knew, though she was still scared, caged wherever she was. He knew he was going to do his damn best to get her out of here, and make sure that the puta who had kidnapped them was going to pay. 

Somehow... 

He pulled against the ropes, hoping they would loosen, wishing he could do more than just sit there on the chair, struggling. He slowly felt the rope move, his wrists tugging against the rope until it pretty much fell into mulch in his hands. 

How...? 

With his hands free, he quickly moved his fingers and felt the way the time stopped around him. Once he was sure he was safe, he started to remove the rest of his ropes and his blindfold, tugging at the ties and throwing them onto the ground by his feet. 

Once he was free, he stood up and looked around the room he was in. It was dark, dimly lit by a few lamp lights in the very corners of the room. And it was a big room. Like a warehouse. There was a door to his right, which he knew was locked. 

To his left, he saw Acxa, she was sitting in a cage, her hand raised out passed the bars and towards him. She had helped him free himself from the ropes and ties. He had to get her out. How dare these people kidnap him and other kids? Why had they come for him? How had they known about his powers – for what else could this be about? Why did they want Keith? 

How dare they go after Keith! 

He looked around the room, hoping to spot any kind of surveillance system – he watched enough crime dramas with his mami to know what to look for if he were ever in the same situation, though he had never imagined it would happen so early. -- but he found nothing. 

Either these guys were really optimistic about their locks, or they were complete idiots. 

Lance hoped it was the latter. 

He twisted his fingers and suddenly, Acxa sucked in a heated breath. “How--oh, you can...teleport?” 

“Stop time, actually,” Lance grinned, looking around for something, anything, that would be able to get Acxa out of the cage. 

“Wow!” She grinned, her eyes wide in her shock. “That’s totally awesome!” 

“You helped me out of the rope,” Lance stated, reaching his hand out, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness in the room. He felt the metal and to Acxa’s voice. 

“Nah, it’s just telekinesis,” he could hear the shrug of her shoulders in her voice. "A lot of the Blades can do that,” 

Blades? “Who are the Blades?” 

"We were the good guys...before we were taken, now we're just...here." He felt a small, but warm hand rest over his cheek, leaning into him for support. And that was when his eyes adjusted to the dimness enough for him to see the rest of the room, saw the small children whimpering and the older teenagers, and some adults mid whispering to one another. 

He and Acxa weren’t the only ones here. How many people had they taken? 

“I’ll do my best to get us out of here, I promise,” Lance said reassuringly. 

He could feel the smile and happiness coming from Acxa, and it made him smile back at her. Even in their dark situation, he was going to do his best. For himself. For Acxa. For the others. 

For Keith. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**
> 
> puta - bitch (Language!!)


	34. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> Life is kicking my ass yo.  
> Anyone offering some phoenix downs?
> 
> More characters.  
> Now I know they aren't part of the Blade. But, they will be important later. I promise.

Lance stepped off the bus and onto the pavement, tugging at the strap of his bag on his back, checking to make sure he had everything. He made his way through the darkly lit street leading to his home. He was exhausted. Having spent the past week, or well, the last day, stopping and starting time again and again and trying to get everyone out of that god awful warehouse. But after all of that hard work, he was finally free. 

It had been touch and go many times while he had been stuck there – for what seemed like ages. But he had figured it all out on the first few hours he had been there. 

Acxa had been a god send, she had been there the longest, she still wouldn’t tell him how long it had been for her, but he saw the way she looked when they both set foot out of the warehouse together, waltzing passed the many armed guards surrounding the, now completely empty, warehouse. But she had told him about the men, about their usual routines, how they’d come in in the morning, feed them, take one out to be ‘examined’ -- Lance shivered and thanked god he hadn’t been one of the poor many that had been drugged and taken away in front of him. His heart ached to help them, but he knew there was only so much he could do to help. If he stopped time and took them all out, they would have found out his powers, found him, and killed him. 

He was sure of it. 

If he wanted to get the others out, he had to do it slowly, methodically, logically. He couldn’t just go all action movie and stop time, and get everyone out. He was still not strong enough to be able to keep time stopped, while only bringing the many Blades locked with him in the room moving. He had needed breaks, many of them, and he did not want all of them to be sitting ducks in the middle of a guard filled hallway as he tried to catch his breath and get his strength back. 

It had taken him a week, a whole seven days of him stuck in the warehouse, stopping time, getting out of his ropes and ties – with the help of Acxa – unpicking her lock, – he had gotten damn good at that after the first few tries – and together they had worked together to figure a plan of escape. 

They’d spent the first day. scoping the floor plan of the warehouse and its surroundings. It was immense, with so many hallways and rooms and exits that all lead to dead ends. They had gotten lost many, many times before. But thankfully with only two of them, they had been able to hide away, with Acxa’s telekinetic help, she was able to block out any camera or guards who may have caught sight of them, but she tired out so easily. He preferred using her strengths as sparingly, and with as few times as they physically could. 

Once he was sure he had a safe and quick way out, they both returned to the room, recuperate, and that was when he stopped time, unpicked the locks of a few of the Blades cages – promising the others he would be back for them. And ushered them all out of the warehouse and safely away from the streets. They worked in small groups, using their skills to try and escape. 

He had grown fond of Axca and her friends, Ezor, the tall and spritely one was able to jump really high, and she was able to teleport short ranges. But she could only move herself, she tried with others, but it just didn’t work out. They’d appear exactly where they were. 

Zethrid was another, she was rather bulkier than the others, harsher too, but she was able to just look at someone and direct their thoughts away. She looked like a snake charming someone when she did so, but it had helped a lot when they had to recuperate. It would work, for a while, before their attention was caught by her again. 

Narti was the other, she didn’t speak, and Lance still wasn’t sure just what she could do, but everything seemed to work when she was around. She had stuck close to Lance’s side, and they had successfully moved all of the Blade’s to freedom. 

And finally, when it was him and the girls, they had escaped too. Leaving the warehouse they had been stuck in completely empty. Lance hadn’t looked back, he had taken Acxa’s small hand and had dragged them all to the forest with the last straggling few Blades. 

They were finally free. 

But there was still that niggling feeling in Lance’s mind. It had all seemed too easy. Acxa had said the same thing many times before And he couldn't help feel it. There was something...not wrong, per say. Just...off. But he wasn’t going to reject the opportunity when it came to him. He was here, he had the ability to help, he obviously had grown in his strength, and by god, had he done his best. 

They had all separated after a few bus rides, the girls’ trying to get as far away from the warehouse as possible, and him just wanting to get home. He may have been technically gone for a day, but it had felt like a lot longer. 

He was exhausted as he turned the corner of the street, suspicious and checking every single thing that moved around him, in case the ones who had taken him had found out he had escaped. He cursed that he had no battery left on his phone to call his mother, to text his family, to _talk to Keith._ But his phone was dead, had died a long time ago. 

He just wanted to get back to his house. 

_'Lance...'_

He paused. Someone was calling his name, It was a man's voice...it was low, gravelly, _sad._ But...that voice sounded familiar. It was coming directly in front of him. He didn’t see anyone there. Darting a gaze back, he saw the street was completely empty. 

_'...Where are you?...'_

That voice called out to him again. So familiar, but he wasn’t sure from what. It made his heart pound, his head ache, and his body want to move towards it. His feet followed his desire and he quickened his steps. He had to get there, he had to get to that voice. 

_Don’t sound so sad. I’m here._

The streets were quiet, a little too quiet for his liking. It was also completely empty. Even the rows of houses looked empty. He quickly turned back up the street, not wanting to risk being taken again, especially if that voice was following him. 

The voice repeated his name, as if he were calling out to him. Sounding sadder and sadder as he continued. It tore at Lance’s heart, that familiar voice. No... don’t be sad. I’m here. I’m here! 

_'Lance...Lance...Lance...'_

_'...come back to me...'_

_'...please...'_

The voice was getting closer and closer, so very, very familiar. It was as if Lance could feel the cool air around him heat up with it. Something hot glided over his bare arm. He yanked it away from the invisible feeling, unsure of what it was.

“Sh-show yourself,” he called out to the air, not wanting to call too much attention to himself, but needing to know what that was. The heat engulfed him, a pleasant warmth, slipping and sliding, a pressure against his arms, his legs, twirling around his fingers, sliding through his hair. He let out a yelp, dropping to his knees on the ground. 

_'...saranghae, ...naui byeol..._

Keith... 

“Keith!” He looked up, yelling the name into the air. A smile wide on his lips. He stretched his hands out and felt the heat sear welcomingly through him, circling around him and pulling him up and down the street, to his home. He vaulted up and followed that feeling, that heat. He felt it run down his spine, like a large and warm hand resting against the small of his back, another running along his arm, filling his hand. 

It was like Keith was here with him, holding him, running alongside him. Guiding him home. Keith was leading him home. Maybe that was where he was. Waiting for Lance. He shivered and allowed his body to be taken by it. 

“ _Mi estrellas_ , I’m here!” He yelled out; his voice shaky and tears forming in his eyes. He had to get there; Keith was waiting for him. 

Finally reaching the gate of his house, everything stopped. The whirlwind ceased, the warmth dissipated, the touch left. But that didn’t deter Lance. He hesitantly placed a hand on the gate. Something seemed...off. The paint on the gate was worn, hadn’t they just painted it like a week ago? His eyes narrowing confusedly at the bike on the lawn, the flowers blooming in the corner of the garden, his sister had planted that with their cousin a few days ago, they had grown quickly. There was a tree there too. Huh... 

Shaking his head, he pushed it at the back of his head. He was exhausted after all. It must finally be taking its toll on his body. He was here now, safe in his home. He pushed the gate open and quickened his steps. Pushing the door open, he grinned when he heard the familiar crack of it, smelled the familiar smell of whatever his mother was cooking. 

“I’m home!” he called out, making his way passed the busy foyer, down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he knew his mother was. He saw her, dressed as she usually was, in her bright colours, leaning over a large pot, stirring something that smelled amazing. 

“Ah, Keith!” His mother called out, not looking back at him. “I hope you’re hungry, I made empanadas, they were Lance’s favourite,” 

“Mami...” Lance breathed out. That was weird, his mother didn’t know Keith yet. They hadn’t met. In fact, he had planned on telling her all about him before he had been...taken. He sucked in a breath. Maybe...maybe Keith had come here during that time, yeah. That had to be it. He had been so worried after all, so scared for him. 

He had to see Keith. 

His mother turned to him, obviously confused that he was standing there, silently watching her. Her eyes widened, and the wooden spoon she had been holding fell to the ground with a loud thud. Her eyes were wide, her face holding a lot more wrinkles, her hair a little whiter than usual. She looked...older. 

“...Lance!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuun!  
> I wonder what happened.
> 
> I'm sorry if this seems...rushed.  
> I'm trying my best. I'll revisit it later and try to fix all the problems.
> 
> **Translations**  
>  Saranghae - I love you


	35. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the confusion _should_ be answered!

Lance whimpered as he hugged his mother for the umpteenth time. He squirmed when she dug her arms around him a little tighter, tears cascading down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he just wanted to hold onto her. 

A little trickle of blood oozed out of the cut on his cheek, he felt the sting of it through the tears, but he paid it no heed. His body ached, and he had a constant headache ever since he had gotten kidnaped. And crying was not helping. But he shrugged it all off and hugged his mother, tighter and tighter as she cried into his chest. 

“Hijo, ¡te fuiste por tanto tiempo! ¡Estoy tan contenta de que hayas vuelto!” She cried, patting his back, his hair, his head. 

He didn’t care that it had only been two days since he had officially been gone. But he was so glad to be back home, to be back in his mammi’s arms, holding her and taking in her familiar scent. 

The sound of the door opening, followed by a set of footsteps running through the house sounded, and Lance felt it before he saw who came in. 

“L-Lance!” 

His heart jumped at the voice ringing out just beyond the door. He couldn’t tell if it was a friend or a foe – hell, he didn’t think there’d be a foe in his mothers’ house, but those few days he had spent exhausting himself by taking the prisoners out of the building had made him really edgy about every little thing – so he stayed still, tightening his hold on his mother. 

The door was pushed open, swinging until it thudded lightly against the wall. Lance choked on his breath as his name was called again, as the man who came through the door looked at him. No... this wasn’t right. He was supposed to be younger, _so much younger_. But no, there stood Keith, at the doorway, well an older, more grizzled version of Keith. One who’s hair was longer and more ruffled, his chest was thicker, arms longer, body just that much more beautiful and stronger. 

Lance stood still, his heart pounding in hope, and with fear. 

Keith reached his hand out, and Lance saw a glimpse of the bracelet glint in the light. His heart beat sped up and his gaze ran to Keith again, seeing those pretty purple eyes, shining like stars with his tears. They were filled with so many emotions, Lance could not read them all at once. He noticed the thick and healed cut on his face, a jagged line from his chin up to the apple of his right cheek. 

_Lance..._

That was him. A sob filled his chest as the most wonderful sight in the world met his eyes. Keith smiling brightly, his heart heaving with emotions as Keith’s thoughts projected to him. Of how much he missed him, how much he loved him. 

Why was he so much older? 

“Lance!” Keith’s voice was no higher than a breath, but it seemed like he had shouted the name. In three quick strides, he had reached them, holding his arms out for Lance to take. He looked hesitant, worried, scared. Lance wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want Keith to feel this way anymore. 

He untangled himself from his mothers’ embrace, feeling her let him go, and clutched onto Keith, his nails biting into the skin of Keith’s back. He had to tilt...down? What? Shouldn’t _Keith_ be the one taller than him, what with him having _grown_ so much in a week. 

Keith didn’t seem to notice this, or care. He tightened his grip around Lance, dragging him as close as he could with the way they stood, gently rocking him back and forth, whispering incoherent things into his ear, kissing his forehead, eyelids, cheeks, lips, neck, anywhere he could reach. 

Lance sobbed in relief, clutching him close, his mind too muddled to understand anything or really care about what was going on around them. His hands found Keith’s silky and long hair, and his fingers delighted themselves with running through the warmth in the strands. He buried his face into the crook of Keith’s neck, tears falling against his skin. 

He was back where he belonged. 

He was back with his family. 

He was back with Keith. 

He was home. 

“...seven years...” Keith’s voice croaked, his thoughts projecting a lifetime of him growing alone, away from him. Searching and searching and searching for him. Failing each and every time he tried to get closer and closer to where Lance was. How aggravated and how angry he had been when he couldn’t pass that one section of the city. How he exhausted himself daily trying to find him, projecting his thoughts out as far and wide as he could – gradually increasing his perimeter the older and stronger he got – how much he fought and sparred with his family, training himself with their help, wishing and hoping he could get stronger and stronger so he could find Lance. 

_Seven years..._

Lance gasped. “Seven...years?” 

What was he saying? How? It had only been a few days, two days he returned to, again and again, in order to help the hundreds and thousands of prisoners' escape. He had returned, again and again and again, checking, and investigating, and making plans and escape routes. How could seven whole years have passed? Nothing like this had happened before. Nothing like this _should_ have happened. 

What even was that place? 

Seven whole years. He had missed seven whole years of his life in that godforsaken place. Shock, he knew he was shocked, he wrapped his arms tighter around Keith and lost himself in his boyfriends’ thoughts projecting into him. 

Seven...years. 

He would have collapsed onto the ground, body weary and worn out had Keith not been holding him. Instead his fatigued mind fell into a welcoming and calming and safe unconsciousness. 

Keith couldn’t remember anything from the last hour, besides the moments after he had found his love and had held him in his arms. He had only regained his sense of memory after they had arrived at the hospital and Lance had been taken out of his arms, put onto a stretcher and rolled away into an emergency room. 

He was now sitting in the deathly quiet waiting room, anxiously waiting for any news. He had violently argued with the doctors about taking Lance out of his sight, but they had insisted on it, telling him that they had to make sure he was alright. 

The thought of it brought him crashing back to reality. Enough to realise that Lance had been captured, kidnapped, taken away from him for seven whole years. Who knew what they could have done to him in that long time? 

Lance was not out of danger yet. 

He sat with his head in his hands, fingers tangled in his hair. He ignored the curious looks he got from the hospital staff and the other patients in the room, and simply sat there, unmoving, his eyes clenched closed. 

Abu Adam had called the police when they had rushed into the house, both Keith as Lance’s mother having called them to tell them that Lance had come back home. Mami through the phone, and him projecting his thoughts to his family. He hadn’t let go of the man, he couldn’t. Even when Lance had fainted, body sweating and filled with exhaustion, Keith had held him, ushering him to the sofa and laying him in his arms on the soft plush. 

It had been Shiro who had forced Keith to think, to get Lance to the hospital. Keith still couldn’t believe that Lance was here. It still felt like a dream. He had had many of them these long years without his _estrellas_ , dreams where he imagined Lance had come back, but whenever Keith reached out for him, whenever Keith touched him, Lance would disappear. 

But Lance was here, he was _real_ , solid, _here!_

His thoughts had been jumbled, Keith saw glimpses of a warehouse, of people, of darkness, of a group of younger women growing in front of him. Of how he was still so confused at how so much time had passed. 

Lance may not have been alone, but he had grown up, gotten stronger, in a warehouse, trying to stay optimistic when he was feeling the brunt of it all. He had been tied to a chair, thrown around a bit. He had been all alone when he had decided to help them. 

The man he loved had been tied, alone, in a warehouse that could have toppled over at any moment. 

“Mr. Kogane-Shirogane-Wasti...uh?” 

Keith’s head shot up and he stared at the doctor standing at the doorway leading to the emergency room Lance had been wheeled into. 

“Mr. McClain has shown total mental exhaustion, and he needs a lot of rest,” he announced, reading through the clipboard in his hands. “We put him on fluids, and fixed his injuries, but he is going to be just fine,” 

Keith felt something close to elation rise in his chest, and his eyes filled with hope, and tears. “Can I see him?” 

The doctor eyes him. “Are you a family member?” 

Keith winced. “I am...” 

“Keith is Lance’s husband,” a voice from behind him stated clearly. Keith looked up to see Lance’s parents appear from the corridor, Lance’s father holding two cups of coffee and holding on out to Keith. 

Keith took it and thanked the man. 

The doctor nodded, and smiled. He motioned for Keith to follow him. “He’s still asleep right now, and sedated a bit, so if he does wake up, he’ll probably be a bit out of it,” 

Keith nodded, but paused, he gazed back to Lance’s parents, searching through their faces, as though trying to find something. He knew just how important family was to the both of them. Lance’s parents deserved to see him first. 

But they both gave him a look, their thoughts projecting back for him to just go, he needed to see Lance right that moment. They could see him after. Keith gave them a nod and followed the doctor through the doors and into the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**  
>  "Hijo, ¡te fuiste por tanto tiempo! ¡Estoy tan contenta de que hayas vuelto!" - "Son, you were gone for so long! I am so glad you are back!"


	36. Wake

Keith quietly opened the door to the hospital room Lance was in. He entered and grimaced once again as he tried to block out the thoughts of those around him.

He had gotten pretty good at silencing the world around him, but sometimes he lost focus, especially now, when all he could think about was Lance, and what he may have gone through. Lance had been so exhausted he had fallen unconscious in his arms. But Keith had seen glimpses and snippets of what Lance had seen, what he had witnessed, what had happened to him.

None of it made sense, but he didn’t want Lance to worry about something like that anymore. He wasn’t going to leave his love, ever.

Closing the door behind him, his gaze focused on the still figure on the bed. Lance’s wrists had been bandaged, and it looked like he had been given a bath. His hair was fluffy and fell in waves against the white hospital pillow. His skin was back to its pretty caramel brown colour, and his cheeks were flushed red with sleep.

He looked a lot better now that he had had a chance to rest.

Keith smiled tenderly down at him, pulling up a chair close to the edge of the bed, reaching out so he could hold Lance’s hand. His mind was thankfully blank, the odd stretches of dreams filling his thoughts. Sweetened only with the feel of him here, _actually here,_ with him. 

After seven whole years, Lance was finally here. 

His thumb made gentle, nonsensical circles at the back of Lance’s hand and wrists, gazing up at his sleeping face. He was so content, so safe. A smile appeared on his lip at Lance’s silly dreams, a jumble of _good_ dreams outweighing the bad. 

The door opened behind them, and Keith turned to see a blushing older nurse come into the room. Her thoughts were sweet about the two lovers. Keith smiled shyly, watching as she quickly set a tray on the table next to him. She checked Lance’s IV and things, before straightening up and moving away.

Keith didn’t look away from Lance, his heart calming. He had been filled with thoughts of Lance being taken away, of being taken advantage of, or even worse. But his dreams were sweet, he seemed to be alright now. But in Lance’s exhausted state, it was hard to tell if he had been hurt any worse than the obvious. 

The television was on, droning in the background about some news or another, not that he was paying attention.

He felt Lance’s fingers twitch, his dreams dissipating into wakefulness. He gazed at the hand, seeing it move slowly, but surely, and then looked up to see Lance smiling at him, his beautiful blue eyes flowing with the happiness that always seemed to be there. 

Keith’s breath caught in his throat and he gazed over Lance’s face, as if to see if he had been hurt any more than he could see.

“Keith?” 

“Hey _aein_ ,” He breathed, a wide smile on his face. "How're you feeling?"

"Much better," Lance winced, but he did feel a lot better now that he had rested up. He looked around and noticed he was in a hospital. The bed was softer than he would have expected, and the sheets and blankets around him were warm. 

"Did they hurt you?" Keith asked, his voice a whisper. 

Lance’s face lost its smile and he closed his eyes tightly. “They...they rough housed me a little, but I was mostly left alone with the others,” He already knew Keith must have read through his mind. Keith squeezed his hand, pulling it closer to his mouth, giving him all of his attention. “I had tried to get the others out – stopping time and scoping the area...but I didn’t think... seven years? I jumped back to maybe a day!”

Keith’s eyes became void of all joy, his teeth clenching. “I couldn’t feel you. I could _always_...but when you were in there...when you told me—when I heard your voice, I tried to find you, I searched for _months,_ but...it was like there was a barrier or something...I tried— _I tried so hard_ , but I just...”

He reached for Keith, holding a reassuring hand to his face and stroking his cheek reassuringly, pressing tentatively at the scar tissue, murmuring sweet words to him. From the way Keith was looking at him, Lance knew he must have gotten that from trying to find him.

“It’s got to be that place,” 

Keith looked down at him, holding his hands and pressing kisses to his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I know you're...I should be calming you down, but god, I am so glad you’re back, I missed you,”

“I missed you too,” Lance murmured, closing his eyes as if he were in pain. Seven whole years had passed. He was...god, he was nineteen now. He had missed school, his friends, his _family! Ay dios,_ he had missed so much stuck in that place.

He had a test on Tuesday.

He hadn’t had a chance to look at himself, but he felt taller, he felt older. Had he grown while in captivity? Had seven years passed, or had he reached the limit of his powers and this was the repercussions.

This was all so _wild!_ He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He still felt like only a day or two had passed. Not...not _years!_

“I suppose everyone thinks I... died?” he wasn’t sure, but that seemed like the likeliest of causes. He’d been gone for so long. But he hoped people would have want to have known his whereabouts for these past seven years.

Keith shook his head, smiling. “Everyone thinks you moved away for a few years to live with your aunt,” his grip tightened on Lance’s hands, dragging himself up closer. “I couldn’t...I can’t...even as an excuse...you dying...I can’t.”

Tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, Keith leaned in closer, pressing his head to Lance’s chest, just listening to his heart beat, feeling his body moving with his breath.

“I trained...with tou-Shiro and eomma,” his voice was muffled against the hospital gown Lance was wearing. Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s head, wanting him close. He missed this, he missed Keith. He missed _everything._ “We all got together to look for you...Shiro...he-- _we tried_ but we just couldn’t _get there, I couldn’t even feel you,_ and we didn’t know why. That place...you’re right, there is something _wrong_ with that place. I’m so glad you’re out,”

He rubbed his head against Lance’s chest, and Lance knew he wasn’t going to talk more about this. Maybe Lance would get more answers from Shiro or the others. But right now, he just wanted to be here, he wanted to take the time to rest and recuperate. Away from that place. His knew he was still in shock, still disbelieving that so many years had passed when it felt like only a few days. He knew his parents were out there, his family were waiting for him. They'd probably come tumbling in and crowd around him. Though he was desperate to see them, he wanted a moment with just Keith. With just his estrella.

“They’ll be here soon, don't worry,” Keith replied to his thoughts, but he didn’t move away.

Lance pressed a kiss to his head, gripping Keith’s head tighter to his body. He knew he wasn’t going to get all the answers he wanted right now, they were both lost and confused about just _what_ happened to him. But he was happy to be here right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**  
>  Aein - sweetheart / lover


	37. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some cuteness on a rainy day.

Keith looked around cautiously as he crept down the long and dimly lit hospital hallway. It was near to midnight, Lance’s family had finally left him to rest after showering him with so much love and care. 

Keith had been forced to stay, _mami’s_ hands around his wrists tight as she shoved him back on his chair next to the bed. But after a while, when he was starting to feel overwhelmed with the amount of people around him – especially how they were all gushing about Lance, telling him everything that had happened, everything he had missed. The past when they were all together and happy. 

Keith had decided to let them have their moment together. Lance needed his family, and Keith needed a moment away from the solid ball of emotions sticking to his throat, the one that was telling him to wrap Lance up in a bubble and not let anyone touch him.

He had not been able to get too far, the McClain’s were few on a normal day, but they were many on a special day, and today was a very special day. It had taken some coaxing to get away from the mass of McClain’s, telling them that he was going to get Lance something to eat, something he would probably want after all that time away.

He had read Lance’s mind, knowing the boy wanted a pizza and some garlic knots, and that was a perfect excuse for Keith to sit back and let the emotions rush over him, without anyone else watching as it happened.

In all honesty, he just wanted to be wrapped up in his _aein’s_ arms, hearing his thoughts, feeling his heart beating, and take in his scent and warmth and know he was here. Finally here. 

But it had taken a while for Lance’s family to leave him alone, not that he would ever say anything about that. They deserved this much more than he did. They needed to see their son, their sibling, their uncle, and whatever else Lance was to them.

Keith could wait.

He hadn’t eaten anything, not that he hadn’t tried. But he was currently holding a box of pizza and some garlic knots – the doctors had seen the box before and had told him that outside food was not allowed for the patients in the hospital during visiting hours.

Well, it’s not visiting hours now.

Keith held the bag holding the pizza box as close to his chest as he could, without actually ruining the pizza inside, and made his way along the corridor. The scent would tip them all off, he was sure. But he didn’t care. His _aein_ wanted a pizza, then Keith was going to get him a pizza.

So what if he had left the previous pizza to the McClain’s and had to go back to the drive thru pizza place, due to the late night, and order the same thing again – he could hear the woman thinking about how weird he was to order two of the same orders in the span of a few hours.

But he didn’t care.

One of the night nurses was standing at the reception desk, putting up a fuss about him being there. But Lance’s doctor, who was leaning on the smooth counter had immediately shut her down, telling her that he thought it was admirable for him to be trying to sneak a pizza into the hospital in the middle of the night.

“After I had already told him not to,” the doctor stated, a little louder than before. 

Keith knew he had been caught. Rounding the corner, he gave the man a sheepish smile, gripping the corners of the bag a little tighter. The doctor gave him a look, but then turned away. And Keith caught the thought of ‘if I don’t see it, then it didn’t happen’.

He rushed passed the reception desk and made his way down the well known path to Lance's room. He had heard from the doctor that Lance had not been feeling all that well, and it made Keith all the more invested in getting to him. He had been alarmed at he thought, and moved without hesitation. Lance was not well, had he had a relapse? Had whatever happened to him for the past seven years come to light? What was wrong? 

Silently, Keith made his way into the room, shutting the door tightly behind him. He could pinpoint dreamlike thoughts coming from Lance, so he knew the man was sleeping. The room was dark, the only light coming from the small night light in the corner of the room. He slowly made his way over to the bed and looked down to the sleeping beauty in it. Immediately, Keith knew that the doctor had not exaggerated.

Lance’s pretty face was pale, and washed out. His plump lips were trembling with each sleepy breath he took. There were tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyelashes still damp with the tears. His thoughts were filled with darkness, with frightening feelings and a nightmarish hell space. 

Keith wanted to wake him, but he wasn’t sure if he should. Should he? Was that what people did? 

Alarmed, Keith placed the food on the side table and reached for Lance, grasping lightly on his limp arm. Trailing his fingers slowly, yet firmly, down his arm, taking hold of his hand as tightly as he allowed himself.

“It’s okay, my _estrellas_ , you’re okay.” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss his forehead and gently brush some of his hair from his face with his free hand. “I’m right here for you, _naui byeol_ , I’m never leaving you,” 

There was a shuddering breath and those beautiful, sea blue eyes opened. They darted this way and that and then looked at him with confusion, then growing awareness, and then such joy.

“Keith,” he breathed.

Keith smiled down at him, gently running his thumb across Lance’s cheeks. “Why were you crying, _aein_?”

Lance shook his head, stretching a little and getting up. “No reason, I was just being an idiot, I suppose.”

Keith eyed him sharply, letting out a low growl. Without warning, he swooped his arms around Lance’s body and picked him up, causing the man to gasp softly. Keith simply chuckled, sitting back on the chair he had occupied since Lance had been stuck here, and placed Lance carefully on his lap. He wrapped the hospital blanket around them both, picking at the corners and tightening them around all of Lance’s body. He tightened his grip around the man, holding him close.

"Don't say that about yourself," he threatened, but his face lost all of its harshness. He settled instead to the pizza box, reaching for it and placing it between them. 

"Pizza and garlic knots!" Lance said with a bright smile on his pretty face. He reached for a slice and started eating, leaning his head on Keith's chest and letting out small moans at the taste. Ay dios mio it had been so long since he had pizza. The cheese was so much better than he imagined, and the sauce and toppings were perfect.

They spent a little while going through the pizza, Keith having brought the knots specifically for Lance to eat his fill, knowing how much the boy loved them. He cleared his throat at the pretty sensuous moans coming from the boy when he bit into the garlic knots, grinning with a reddened face as the pretty mouth wrapping around the bread.

“I have dreamed of finally having you like this,” He murmured when they had finished their food, pressing kisses on Lance’s cheeks, nose and lips. “I wanted so badly to hold you, and never let you go,”

Lance beamed at him, letting him love him, knowing how much they both needed this right now. “I missed you, I know it felt like a day to me, but I really missed you,”

“I want to stay with you,” Keith stated calmly, holding him close, as if he would disappear in a mere moment. He didn’t want that to ever happen.

Lance pulled away, looking up at him, shocked. “What?” 

“When you’re out of here,” Keith whispered, hiding his face in the curve of Lance’s neck. “I want...I want this to be...more. I can’t lose you again,”

Lance’s heart nearly burst with happiness, but he couldn’t forget his other worries. “I can’t ask you to do that, it’s...it’s been seven years. I _feel_ different. My mind feels like its grown, its like when I knew seven years had passed, my mind kind of...caught up, but I don’t _know_ anything.”

“I’ll teach you,” Keith replied almost immediately. Lance gave him a dewy smile, cradling his face and his hands, forcing him to look up from his hiding space. “I’ll do anything,”

“I want you to know that I want this too,” Lance stated, as seriously as he could. “I want to be close to you, I _need_ to be close to you. I don’t think I could live without seeing you every day, I need you, Keith. But I have missed seven whole years, seven years of school, seven years of learning about the world, seven years of friends, seven years of my family, seven years of you. I can’t let you...”

“Stay with me,” Keith asked, his voice pleading. “I have my own place, it’s close to both our family's, but...I...please, don’t leave me.”

Lance gave him a look, but Keith could read through the emotions rushing through his mind, and he knew he had won this one. Lance saw the look on his face and let out a breath. “Only if you really want me to.”

“Stay,” was the only think he said before kissing Lance with all the love he had for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll get more into the inner psyche of Lance.  
> But just know this, he is mentally sound, and mentally a 19 year old, but it's like he has been living in a bubble, and isn't aware of the world around him.  
> A lot can change when you're isolated for so long.
> 
> But we'll get to that.


	38. Grow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> I know its been a bit. But I am going to do my best to try and get this fic finished by Halloween.  
> I am going to do nanowrimo this year (yes, again, hehe) and I want to devote my time to it mostly around November time.
> 
> So expect more frequent updates.  
> I have motivation and a need (for speed...ahem...) to do something about this fic, because I do love it, and I want to write it and get my ideas out there.  
> I also have a plan for a klance zombie fic after this, which I am eager to get into after as well.
> 
> Thank you for your patience with me.  
> Your comments are amazing, and they make my day.
> 
> Shout out to denunciation for being a beautiful person and so amazing (like wow) during my sad times.   
> You rock my dear poppet, and I want you to know it!

It took Lance another full day of recovery before he was able to leave the hospital and go back home. Though Keith had told him to stay with him, they both thought it would be best for him to spend a few days at home. 

He needed to get back to normal before he was able to take on another change, especially one as big as living with his boyfriend. He was giddy to get started though, but he was still a little out of it, and he knew he needed his mami and something normal before he embarked on his next great adventure. 

Being back at home was a lot more different than he had expected it to be. Then again, he couldn’t just walk through the front door and expect everything to be exactly the same as it was. As if he hadn’t been gone for seven whole years without any word to anyone.

Hell, the last thing he had told his mother was that he was going on a date with Keith after school and that he would be back before curfew. 

Keith had told him what had happened after he had been kidnapped. As soon as he had heard word, he had run straight to the house and had told his mami everything. He couldn't imagine the shock his mami must have endured when finding out about his abilities, and the utter grief when Keith had told her he had been kidnapped. 

He was glad at that moment that he didn’t have the same abilities as Keith. He didn’t think he could take listening in to his mami and family over the past seven years as they tried to figure out what to do now with Lance gone for so long. 

How many times they must have thought about giving up, how Keith had given them the hope that he was still out there, still trying his hardest to get back home to them. 

Keith had been humble when he spoke, voice muffled in the curve of his neck, but Lance could see right through him. Keith hadn’t let his mami give up on him, on them, on his return home. He had exhausted himself, strengthened himself, done everything he could to try and get Lance back. 

He still wore the bracelet for the past seven years. Nothing had changed in his heart. That much Lance could tell. Keith still loved him with the same heart wrenching, head soaring, sweet scenting and angels singing love that he had when they were kids.

And though he had also physically, and to some degree mentally, grown in those seven years – looking at himself in the mirror once he was up and out of the hospital had been a very weird trip for him. Seeing stubble on his chin, his face a lot more angular, no more baby fat, and the whole ‘being taller than Keith now’ was a big change to what he was used to – that also meant that his entire world had also grown seven years.

Stepping foot in his home for the second time since his arrival, he really started to notice the changes. The house looked different, the walls a little more peeling on the side, more scents infused into the very walls. There were a lot more pictures on the walls, and the tables around the house, alongside many other knick knacks. The living room was the same, however there was a thick, black stain on the carpet by the small fireplace. There were no more toys strewn about the ground here and there, from the younger twins, and there was definitely a lot more _neatness_ to the house overall. 

Small changes, things no one would barely notice, but to Lance, it was a huge shock. One that he was still slowly trying to get over. 

Keith and his papa helped Lance up to his room, it was exactly the same as he had left it. Except a lot less messy. His mother had said she had come in to clean it up every once in a while, she never believed the police when they had stopped searching for him, kept him as a cold case. But she had never believed him dead in her heart. Lance had teared up at that, his heart aching at just what he had made them all go through. 

He hugged his mother and father, long, wistful, tear filled hugs. His family dog piled over him, grabbing onto parts of him wherever they could. He noticed a wedding ring on his older brother’s finger, but he didn’t comment on that, not yet. 

He still needed time. 

He would get through this, with them, with Keith. He was stronger than before now. And a lot more cautious. But it also meant that he was weak, weaker than he had expected. But that was a given. His doctors had told him he needed to work on his body, as well as his mind.

His parents, and Keith, had listened as the doctor told him exactly what he needed to do, now that he was going home. The physical therapy, the mental therapy. Everything. All of the appointments and tasks, and exercises and ...it was too much for him to take then.

His papa had taken the small folder the doctor had handed them, flipping through it before handing it to Keith’s waiting hands. Keith had been reading through it ever since they had left the hospital, one hand gripping Lance’s own in a tight grip while he talked to his family, while he paid extreme attention to the pages. 

He lay on his bed, smiling when it still smelled like the detergent his mami used. His pillow was fluffier, and his blankets were thicker. They were new, he noticed. 

“Keith got them for you,” his papa answered for him, “He wanted you to be comfortable if— _when_ you came back," 

Lance let out a small smile. Seven whole years and Keith hadn’t once given up on searching for him. He had come to his family, looked after them while he himself was stuck there. He had given them hope, and that meant so much to Lance. 

“He stays here some nights,” his mami murmured, straightening out the corners of the pillow, patting the plush. She had a small smile on her face. “Always hugging your pillow so tightly,” 

Lance’s cheeks burst a bright red, but he really could imagine Keith here, curled up in his covers, hugging his pillow and sleeping as soundly as he could. He wished he could see it, wished he could experience Keith sleeping next to him, curled up around _him_ instead of the plush. 

Maybe he could. 

But he was tired now, exhaustion still steeping his mind, making him want to lay back and just rest a little more. He had had dinner, his taste buds bursting with the delicious flavour of his mami's cooking. 

The rest of his family had been cautious around him, giving him space as they sat around him at the dining table. The house was never usually this quiet during dinner time. Lance had quickly stopped that, joking about something stupid, unconsciously reminding them that he was still the same old Lance that they knew and loved. And they had soon fallen back into what he considered normal. 

It was going to take some work. But he was going to do it. 

The next few days was spent with Lance coming to terms with technology. He hadn’t expected there to be such a different to what he was used to. With Shiro and Adam’s idea, his friends and his school had all thought he had gone abroad to visit his aunt. So, he wasn’t surprised to see Hunk and Pidge knocking wildly on his door while he was doing some leg exercises with Keith – though, to be more honest, he was enjoying laying on his back in the living room – because his mami was still giving him the whole ‘Keith may be your boyfriend but you keep the door open when you’re in your room together’ spiel. Especially when it came to his leg exercises. 

Keith had his left leg up on his shoulder, knees bent and curled around his shoulder as he slowly, very slowly, pushed in closer. Stretching his muscles, that was what the doctors had ordered. But honestly, having this older, rugged, grizzled and _ay madre dios, he’s so beautiful_ man leaning closer and closer to him. He found it difficult to ignore the reaction _down there_ \-- okay, so he maybe he wasn’t dully ready for _...that._ But Keith was making it hard to not think about it – He couldn’t help but lean up a little bit more and press kisses to Keith’s pretty lips. 

Keith looked all the more pretty with his cheeks a constant pink and mouth a ruddy blood red. And Lance used the fact that he had to do these stretches for twenty minutes every few times a day to his advantage. 

More kisses meant a more happy Lance. And a happy Lance meant he would get better a lot quicker, both mentally and physically. 

It was during one of their longer kisses that the there was a rapid knock on the front door. They broke apart when mami opened it and a wave of familiar voices rushed through the house. Pidge, followed closely by Hunk, came into the room. Their eyes were wide, shocked and worried. 

“Lance!” Hunk cried, tears forming in his eyes as he pulled the smaller boy into a bone crushing hug. “Where the hell do you—you didn’t even tell me—I had to hear it from your mum, but then Keith said--and oh my god! I'm so glad you're okay!” 

Pidge punched him lightly on his shoulder, grumbling low in her throat about how much she missed him. Lance grinned and pulled her into a hug. 

“Okay, okay, let go,” Pidge wrinkled her nose, pushing the lanky boy away. They settled onto the ground, Keith helping Lance sit up. “Now...what really happened?” 

“Can’t keep it a secret from you, can we?” Lance shook his head, settling back onto the sofa and letting out a breath. He had been having nightmares over the past few nights about his time away from them. Horrible things where they hadn’t made it, where he had gotten caught, where he had gotten the Blades killed, or died himself. 

He was usually woken by a text from Keith when the boy wasn’t with him, or be wrapped in his warm and comforting embrace.

But he needed to get to the bottom of this. He had to figure out just what had happened to him. And had the same things happened to the others. Were they also in danger? Had they made it home okay? And how was it that his power to stop time not worked there – at least to the effect it usually worked. 

He knew the best people to answer that question was with the two friends in front of him. So, he checked to make sure his mami was busy in the kitchen and nodded, leaning in close and telling them everything that had actually happened at the warehouse.


	39. Tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> I want to get this finished up, but I also don't want this to be a quickly written finish. So I'm going to get the main story done over the span of the next few chapters, and I'll most likely be writing little one shots of Keith and Lance and the families after.
> 
> What do you think?
> 
> Also, hit me up if you want to be my buddies on nanowrimo this year, I'm always happy to help people, and be helped by you!

It had taken Lance an entire week to be ready enough to move in with Keith.

Well, it wasn’t really like he needed the whole week. He had been ready to move in after the first two days he had spent at home, Keith by his side for the second day.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved his family, and he was so happy to be back with them. But for him, he had only been gone for a total of…what, seven days? A mere week away from his family. Sure, a tiring week, but a week still.

To them, it had been a whole seven years. They hadn’t really _moved on_ from that. Not that he expected them to. Everyone was acting so differently around him. They all looked at him as if he was going to disappear in a mere moment. He understood their reasonings. Hell, he knew he’d be acting the same, just as paranoid and anxious, if anything like this happened to any of them. He’d definitely be as freaked out and want to stick to the person as closely as he could, just to make sure they were really there. That they really had come back.

So yes, he understood it all.

He just couldn’t take it anymore. Merely a week had passed, and he was finding out that privacy was no longer a possibility — not that it had been before, but at least before he could close his door and have some semblance of being alone. Now, his entire family would just stop into his room and spend a few hours with him, when all he wanted to do was rest.

He loved his family, every single one of them. But his heart wasn’t as broken as theirs had been. He was still in shock that a whole seven years had passed. He wasn’t going to find anything out by just sitting in his bed while his mami doted on him, and his papa gave him that worried look.

So yeah, he had told his mami that maybe he was thinking of moving in with Keith.

She hadn’t been surprised, which had made _Lance_ surprised. She had told him she had been expecting this. Ever since Keith had started spending more and more time with his family over the time he had been away, he had become a large part of the family too. Like a surrogate son for her parents while he extensively searched for Lance.

She had been a bit vehement, he was expecting that. But it was mostly because she wasn’t ready for her boy to grow up so quickly. Too late for that.

“Mijo, I know you need to go,” his mami had said quietly, watching him eat dinner in his bed, she hadn’t let him move that much from his room, still worried that he wasn’t feeling well. “I know you can’t stay my _conejito_ forever,”

Feeling tears welling up in his eyes, he pushed the plate to the side and reached for his mami. Hugging her tight to his body, he whimpered.

“I’ll always be your _conejito,_ mami _,_ ” he murmured, rubbing his forehead against her chest. “That’s never going to change. I just need—”

“You need time away,” she finished for him. He nodded, feeling bad for it. Usually in movies and books that had similar situations, the character would have a happy ending after such a traumatic ordeal. The story would end, the movies credits would roll, because he was safe now, he was back home, where he belonged. But it definitely didn’t feel that way for him right now.

He knew he couldn’t relate to that kind of thing.

For one thing, the big bad monster was out there. The warehouse would have found out about their escape, and most likely they would be looking for him, for the others. And he didn’t want to leave his family in the line of fire. He needed to get away for their sake. It wasn’t really about him anymore. It was about keeping them safe.

This was not the ending to his story.

But he wasn’t sure how he could explain that to his mother. His family. They knew about him, about his abilities — to an extent — and they knew it was because of his abilities that he had been taken away in the first place. He hadn’t dared to tell them that it wasn’t just that reason. That they had wanted Keith. He had heard them talking, conspiring against him, trying to get him to crack.

At first, he had thought they were trying to scare him, when they had first mentioned Keith to him, he had thought they were using him as bait, or whatever. But he had kept his mouth shut, he hadn’t told them a damn thing.

He had expected them to stop after that. But they kept at it. Soon they were calling Keith by his name, he knew he hadn’t told anyone anything. He hadn’t said a damn thing about Keith. And yet, they knew. They had known his name. They had known _him._

Lance knew they had been after Keith, and he wasn’t going to leave Keith all alone after that.

So, he had to stay with Keith, he had to stay to keep his family away from the oncoming onslaught, and to keep Keith safe. Because the boy was now living all by himself. He wasn’t under the protection of Shiro and Adam and his mother. He was a sitting duck out there.

Lance needed to get to him, now. Keith was there, what if he had already been taken? What if they had found him and were taking him away, now, at this moment, while he was having dinner with his family. Oh god, what if—

His thoughts were broken by his mother. “You don’t have to explain everything to me, I just want you to know that we are here for you,”

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me, you’re all safer if I’m away,”

His mami nodded, running her fingers through his spikey hair, it had grown a lot from when he had last seen her. It was a lot more like Keith’s hair, a slight mullet style. She yanked lightly at the ends, letting out a small sigh.

“Okay, mijo.” she replied just as quietly. “I understand you want to keep us all safe, and I know Keith will take good care of you,”

Lance nodded, reaching forward again and hugging his mami for dear life. He relished in the warmth of his family, knowing that the sooner he left, the safer they would be. But at the same time, he didn’t want to leave them. Though he had grown, he still felt like that little twelve year old kid to her.

So much had changed so quickly.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, “We’ll get you packed and ready to go by tomorrow,”

Lance nodded, giving her one last, long hug, before she got up to leave. Most likely to tell the family of what was going to happen tomorrow. He watched her leave, reaching for his phone. The very idea of Keith maybe being taken because he was all on his own had wheedled its way into his heart. He had to make sure Keith was okay.

_“I’m okay, aien, how are you feeling?”_

The text he received from Keith had loosened the knots in his stomach, but he knew nothing would change until he saw Keith, had the boy in his arms, safe away from the world.

_“I’m coming to stay with you, I’m coming tomorrow.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting a little into Lance mindset now.  
> Next chapters going to be a bit of a cute one with Lance moving in, and then we'll get to the brunt of it.
> 
> **Translation**  
>  conejito - little bunny (I just imagine Lance being a really excited child, bouncing with energy)


	40. Moving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just a quick one this time.

The sound of the alarms was deafening, but Keith didn’t care. He had to get him out.

He pounded against the large and long glass tub, watching as Lance did the same, even though he looked like he was about to fall unconscious.

Their connection was still strong, his thoughts were filled with such anguish, such pain, such feat. But the fact that he was still moving, still trying to get out, was the world for Keith. Because it meant Lance was still in there, still alive. His fists were turning raw red from banging against the glass, bruises forming in slow, deep circles, but he didn’t stop. He just held his fist back and tried to slam at the glass again and again.

Lance was still awake, he was still alive, he was still feeling and experiencing everything.

That made Keith’s stomach turn, it made him angry and made him pound that much harder on the glass tube.

Slowly, very slowly, he saw the glass start to give under his strength. A small, barely seen crack appeared under his fist, the tail arching up and out like starbursts as he continued. He gave one last punch, putting his entire weight into it, and the glass smashed.

The neon green water — or whatever the hell liquid it was that had Lance trapped in there — poured out and soaked him through. He didn’t care. He reached for the unconscious man and pulled him out.

He felt Lance shudder in his arms, whining and turning into him. His skin was so cold, almost freezing to the touch. But the water had been warm. It was confusing, but he didn’t let that get to him. He shrugged off his jacket and lay it over Lance’s body, cursing that it was a cropped one.

Maybe he should listen to Lance and get a longer jacket.

He wrapped his arms around Lance’s waist, just holding his body up against his own for a moment, wanting to just…feel him. Keep his body warm with his own heat.

He was brought back to his senses when something heavy thudded against the door. The pole he had slotted in through the handles on the doorway to keep it closed was bending obscenely against the sheer force.

He growled at the thoughts rushing through him. They were going to get through.

He needed to get Lance out of here. But there was no other exit other than the blocked door. The windows were too small and too high up in the room, and the rest of the room held nothing but the broken glass tube. There was nothing he could climb, and nothing he could do.

Damn it.

He moved Lance’s body, wrapping it around and behind him, pulling his taller body onto his back. Slipping off his belt, he wrapped it around both of their waists, taking the arms of his jacket around Lance’s shoulders, and doing the same over his chest.

He did a quick check, and nodded when Lance didn’t jostle or move too much. He was sure he was going to need both hands to get out of this mess. Satisfied Lance was stable, he reached for the sword he had on his hip, holding it out to the doorway.

“You’re going to hate me after this,” he murmured to Lance as he sliced the blade of his sword across the pipe. It shattered and four guards stumbled in.

But Keith was ready. He swung his blade up, grimacing when it caught their armour and slid through. Slow and hard, but it was cutting through their armour and into their skin. Once one was down, he kept his back guarded and sliced sideways, his blade slicking through the other guards armour, making him jump back and drop his gun.

He barely heard the shots pinging against the metal of the walls and the thudding against the wood and plastic of the furniture. He could hear what they were thinking, feel their every move. They were not going to get Lance, they were going to die.

The remaining two, startled at the way he dodged through each and every one of their shots, backed away. This gave Keith enough time to sprint at them, sliding his sword in an arch behind him and grunting as he pulled the blade straight through their bodies. He vaulted over their fallen bodies and landed on the other side of the doorway.

Quickly turning, he held one arm around Lance’s back, holding him steady, and the other holding his sword out to any other attacks.

He saw other guards gaining in on him in the hallway. Without thinking, he vaulted for the long windows on the one side of the hallway and bolted through them.

The sound of the doorbell jolted Keith away from his dream…his memory…? He wasn’t sure. But he didn’t think he had the time to really think about that right now. Getting up from the sofa he had fallen asleep on, he got up and straightened his clothing. Making his way to the door, he pulled it open and was greeted with the most amazing sight he had ever had the chance to witness.

“I hope I’m not too early,” Lance said with a grin that rivalled the sunshine itself.

He had a few bags by his feet, and Keith noticed Lance’s mother and oldest brother in the back, with more bags.

“I was worried you weren’t going to…” he paused, letting out a breath as he moved out of the way and let Lance and his family into his home. He had been worried that Lance would prefer to stay at home. Worried that Lance wouldn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

But Lance was here now. He had all of his things and he was going to move in with him. A giddy feeling swarmed in Keith’s chest at the thought, and he couldn’t help the goofy grin spreading over his face.

He took Lance’s bags and motioned for him and his family to follow. His small two bedroom house wasn’t that big. But he had been working hard to get it. Currently he was renting it from his abu-Adam and tou-Shiro — he had been insistent to rent, rather than have it gifted to him — but it was enough for him.

He just hoped it was enough for Lance.

Lance followed him down the short hallway to the three doors, showing him the bathroom in the middle, a shared one that went to both of their rooms, and then Lance’s room, furthest from the outskirts of the house, as closest to the middle as possible — because Keith was not going to have anything bad happen to Lance if he could help it.

“Your room is this one,” He motioned, pushing the door open to the medium sized room. He had it set up similar to his own room, a single bed in the middle of the room, a desk and a cupboard and a dresser. All simple things which he knew Lance was going to make his own. “I know it’s not a lot—”

“It’s perfect,” Lance breathed, dropping his bag by the door and grinning as he walked around the room.

“Your home looks very lovely,” Mami McClain said, ushering Marco, Lance’s older brother, into the room to deposit the rest of Lance’s bags.

Keith nodded, looking away in embarrassment. This was the second time mami McClain had been here. The first being when he had first got the property. He had brought her, and only her, to his new home. As soon as he had gotten it. And he had told her, stuttering and embarrassed as he always was whenever he talked to her about his future, that he wanted this house to be his and Lance’s forever home.

He had been so worried that she would say no, or tell him to never see Lance again. But she had been so excited for him, hugging him and pressing kisses on his cheek. She had explicitly told him that he still had to ask her and her husband for Lance’s hand in marriage — whenever that time came — and then, and only then, would she really consider him her son.

Not that she didn’t already. But at least when he married Lance, they would have a more solid relationship.

He had stuttered and blushed and denied to his hearts content, but she knew. Mothers always knew things like this — his included — and he had just nodded. Telling her that she would be in the whole thing.

“I love it,” Lance grinned, falling onto the bed with a thump.

“We’ll leave you two to get settled,” Marco said, rolling his eyes at his younger brothers antics.

Declining Keith’s offer to stay for drinks, they were soon waving goodbye to the two, and out of the house. Keith let out a breath, his heart beating madly.

Lance was finally living with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....oooooh, what was that dream Keith had?  
> Hmmm...
> 
> Yay, the boys are living together now!


	41. Night

_**'Your fault.'** _

No. 

_**'Your fault.'** _

No. It's not.

_**'Your fault.'** _

Keith...Keithy-cat...no.

**IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!**

Lance sat up on his bed with a start. He held a hand to his rapidly beating heart, his thoughts returning to the dream he just had. Not again, he had found Keith, hadn’t he? They had just spent the night getting him settled into the house. And then relaxing in front of the television to binge watch whatever had been on while they chowed down on pizza and cuddled under the blankets.

He had kissed Keith goodnight, tired from the day. Keith was right there, in the other room, safe. And yet…that dream. The car crash…the firefighters, the doctor…Keith losing his parents.

Why had it come back so suddenly?

Shaking his head, he turned to the clock on his night stand. 2:34am.

Knowing he wasn’t going to get any sleep now, he pulled the covers off his body and got out of bed. Maybe a glass of water would help. His stomach groaned in protest. And maybe something to eat.

Letting out a loud yawn, his blue loin slippered feet padding silently to the kitchen of the home he shared with his…holy crap, he was living with his soulmate. He switched on the light, grimacing at the brightness of it, and reached for the fridge door. Pulling it open, he grinned. To his delight, the shelves were filled with all types of delightful leftovers, and a whole rack of bottled water and a few bottles of soy milk. There were small post it notes on some of the boxes which told Lance that most of the current cuisine he was witnessing was from Shiro and Adam, and the others nearer to the back were lunch for Keith.

Huh…maybe Keith had a job now? Or was he still in school?

They hadn’t really talked about that, now that he thought about it. Everyone’s soul attention had been on him and his recovery. But he didn’t really know what had changed for Keith in these last seven years.

He’d have to sort that out soon enough.

Knowing that that wasn’t possible so early in the morning, he instead reached into the fridge and pulled out a bowl of rice and grilled strips of what looked like beef. He took a good helping in a bowl and put it in the microwave. Taking a fork from the drying rack by the sink, he sat down on the table top. His thoughts rushing to the dream.

It had been a very long time since he had last dreamed of the crash. He had thought, now that he had found his Keithy-cat, that the dreams would stop. But why was he having them now? What brought this whole thing on? Was it the trauma? The whole…being kidnapped and escaping seven years later?

Or was it something else?

The microwave beeped, breaking him from his thoughts. He reached for it, taking the bowl out and holding the warmth of it to his chest. It smelled absolutely amazing.

Before he even had a chance to set his fork into the food, the stairwell creaked. His heart thudded. Shit, had he woken Keith up? Was that Keith? Was it a burglar? And here Lance was, in a loose t-shirt and boxers, with a bowl in his hands.

His heart rate stopped rabbiting when he saw Keith enter the kitchen, rubbing his tired looking eyes as he looked up at him. And then his heart rate sped up again because Keith looked so soft and cute and holy crap. This was his soulmate!

“Couldn’t sleep?” Keith asked, making his way over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of soy milk, reaching for the glass in the cupboard above, he filled it and leaned back against the counter, taking a few sips.

Lance shook his head, his thoughts returning to the dream. “You too?”

Keith’s eyes widened. He placed the cup on the counter and made his way over to Lance, taking the bowl from his hand and placing it on the counter behind Lance.

He gripped Lance’s arms, dragging him up a little. His face was filled with anguish, eyes wettened with unshed tears. “How do you know what happened?”

Lance scrunched his eyes in his confusion, still half asleep. But it made sense, Keith could read his mind after all. So he definitely knew what Lance was dreaming about. Was this considered an invasion of privacy or something? It wasn’t like he was intentionally dreaming about the crash, or what happened to Keith during and after it.

Keith’s grip tightened on his shoulders, head dropping down, shoulders sloping as he sighed out loud, like he had just given up.

“I’m sorry…” his voice was barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think we’d share the nightmares too. I don’t want you to have to—I didn’t mean—I just can’t—I’m sorry,”

Lance moved to reach for him then, cooing words of ‘it’s okay, I’m right here’. And it was that moment that he discovered several things. One, he realised his body wasn’t really listening to his head, the one that was telling him that there was something weird going on here. Why _was_ he dreaming about that terrible moment, one that rocked Keith’s entire world.

But, his heart ached for the man, Keith was hurt, he was in pain.

And two, and even more unsettling to his nerves and the current situation they were in, Keith smelled good — like really good — and Lance wasn’t sure what he was going to do about that. Closing his eyes, he felt his body actually tingle, brought to a hyper awareness that almost felt foreign to him. Something hot zinged through him. Bone melting, sweet scented.

Desire.

 _Now?_ When Keith was at his most vulnerable?

Keith looked up at him, closer than ever. His eyes weren’t the solid grey Lance knew, it was so much more than that. There was pure silver dancing in them, mixed with an odd sensation of purple and blue. Like starlight, like the galaxy. He could easily drown in them.

Not a bad way to go, he figured — death by Keith’s eyes.

“Lance.” he said, and Lance felt his mind go fuzzy. He unconsciously leaned in closer to Keith’s warm, sleep filled body. Just that, just his name in that deep voice that was full of promises he definitely intended to keep. And suddenly, a part of Lance’s brain that dictated the whole ‘stop this, Keith needs you to comfort him, not ogle him’ packed its bags and went on vacation somewhere on the other side of reality, probably sharing a suite with the same grey matter that told him dream-sharing was weird.

So instead of taking a step back, he took one forward and met Keith halfway.

And what happened next was the oddest thing of all. Odd and scary and amazing.

A heavenly sigh drifted passed his lips as Keith’s arms came around him, and then their mouths touched, warm and sleepy, like slipping into a warm bath, or standing in front of a roaring flame. Forgotten hopes and dreams returning with full vengeance. And then…there were no more thoughts.

Lance knew Keith’s very eyes had destroyed him, but that mouth. God, his mouth. It was just the same as he remembered. Keith’s kisses started out gentle, and Lance was sure he meant for it to stay that way. But Lance didn’t want that. He could instinctively tell just how much Keith missed him, how much he wanted him.

Keith pulled back, just enough to stare up at him, all flushed and wide eyed and beautiful.

Lance knew he was going to do something stupid, like apologise again for something he couldn’t control. Lance didn’t care that he was having such horrid dreams about Keith. It had brought him to the man, brought them together. If it hadn’t been for that dream, then Lance would have probably never met Keith — yet, he wanted to believe they would meet regardless of the situation. — He nodded to Keith, telling him silently, and through his thoughts, that he was okay, that he was ready.

“Te amo, Keith.”

Lowering his head, Keith pressed his mouth to the hollow of Lance’s throat. Beneath his lips, he could feel Lance’s pulse racing. Mouth wide open and gasping with pleasure, thoughts erupting in sweet relief. Of course Keith wanted him, of course he understood that this was not the best moment, they were both wrought, wrung out and tired.

But Keith needed him. Needed to make sure, to know he was here. Finally here after all of that searching, all of that waiting.

Dreams and thoughts be damned, he wanted Lance. But he wanted to do whatever it was Lance wanted. The gasp of pleasure from Lance’s pretty lips made him smile as he made his way slowly along the man’s jaw, over warm, soft skin to his ear. When he finally pulled away. He saw those beautiful sea blue eyes wide, a sea of dazed heat and desire.

_Tighter…hold me tighter. Show me I’m no longer in that awful place._

Keith kissed him again, his little whimpers for more going straight into him. Lance’s arms wrapped around his neck and then he was kissing him, all consuming, earthy, raw and Keith was a goner. He groaned into Lance’s mouth at the pleasure of his touch, back arching, tongues touching, fingers gripping tight, nails dragging down his back as Lance tried to gain purchase, trying to get closer.

A rush of heat, the anticipation of what was happening, what was to come. It swam through Keith instead of good sense. The one that was telling him to go slow, to not do this in the kitchen. Find a bed, find somewhere warm and comfortable, make it worth it.

_Closer…come closer._

Lance tore free of his mouth and stared up at him, his eyes feral, mouth wet, breathing wildly as he caught his breath. Keith had no idea what Lance must have been looking for. Lance’s thoughts were hazy, filled with lust and desire and love and warmth and—oh god. Keith was getting drunk off him.

Lance apparently found whatever it was that he wanted, because he tugged Keith back down, fingers digging deliciously into his biceps as if he couldn’t get enough.

That made two of them.

Breathless. Keith kissed his way down Lance throat, grinning at the low, sexy gasp Lance let out when he got to the spot where his neck met his shoulder. Nothing had changed about that particular spot. Lance’s eyes slid closed, body shuddering with intensity.

_I’m not back there…_

“Lance,”

_I’m with Keith…_

“Lance,”

_I’m free…_

**“Lance,”**

_Please…_

Shock had Lance going still, fingers gripping Keith’s hair tight, pulling the man in as close as he could. Slowly, he lowered his hands. “S-sorry,”

“No, that…” Keith shook his head, leaning in closer. Lance’s thoughts were racing, as if he was trying to figure everything out. Keith pressed another quick kiss to his lips, hoping he would come back. “You’re okay, aien, you’re here, you’re safe, I _promise,”_

“I…” slowly, purposefully, their eyes locked. He invaded Lance’s personal space again, hoping to get closer and closer to show him that he was here. Lance sucked in a breath as heat spiralled within him.

“I love you,” Keith said, his breath just above a whisper. “I will go to the ends of the universe for you, I would do everything in that god awful Bruno Mars song for you,”

What? Lance’s eyes widened, filled with mirth. Who the hell was Bruno Mars?

“Oh…right, yeah.” Keith shook his head, rolling his eyes. Gentle and firm hands settling on Lance’s hips, and he back Lance against the counter. “We’ll listen to it later,”

“Okay,” he replied, breathlessly. “I’ve missed a lot, haven’t I?”

Keith shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? I’ll get to have all of your firsts,”

“Keith!” Lance’s cheeks burst a bright red. He slapped his lightly on his shoulder, “how scandalous,”

Keith chuckled, leaning away. But Lance wasn’t going to have that. He leaned in, grasping Keith and pulling him closer. Their mouths pressed together again, teasing, light, keeping it soft until Keith moaned. And that was it for Lance. He deepened the kiss into something hot, intense, intimate. A connection that had his head spinning and his blood pumping as their bodies moulded together.

He had witnessed enough health classes when he was a kid to understand what was going on. And he wanted it. He wanted this to happen. Unlike their previous kisses, safe, secure, warm and wonderful. Where Keith was holding back, where Keith was letting Lance decide the pace.

Lance wanted to be a whole lot demanding. A whole lot wild and when Keith reciprocated, sliding his thigh between Lance’s legs, he had lost all of his abilities to think. Before Keith sought permission, slow and steady and heady and warm and breath taking. But this, this time Lance demanded more. He buried his fingers in Keith’s hair and tried his best to claim Keith’s mouth, _claim Keith,_ as his own in more ways that just one. He pulled Keith even closer, making the man stumble and fall forward, hands braced on the counter either side of Lance in attempt to not fall. Lance grinned, hand caressing down Keith’s back, enticing him, and apologising at the same time.

Keith had burrowed a little deeper into his heart in the process.

Last night, he’d been seeking permission. Not this time. This time, he buried his fingers into Keith's hair and claimed his mouth, pulling him in even closer, a hand caressing down his back as if to soothe as well as incite, claiming another little piece of his heart in the process.

Sneaky bastard.

He’d tell him so, but their tongues were a little busy. So were his fingers, first enjoying the play of muscles on his back, and then holding onto him just in case he had any ideas about trying to get away.

Because he wasn’t done.

Lance slid his hands over Keith’s shoulders, reminding himself that enough was enough. He tugged a thrilling rough groan from deep within Keith’s chest, so he tightened his grip easily. By the time the broke apart, they were both completely out of breath.

If it wasn’t for the chair and the thigh Keith had wedged between his legs, Lance would have dropped to the tiled floor in a puddle of love.

“Lance.”

His voice was low and gravely and sexy as hell.

“Yes?”

He ran his hand up Lance’s arm, to his shoulder, over his throat, going slowly, achingly slowly, so that by the time Keith cupped his jaw, Lance was quivering. Lifting his other hand, he slid a curl from Lance’s temple, tucking it behind his ear. With his pulse somewhere at stroke level, Lance closed his eyes to better absorb Keith’s touch. His fingers were warm and callused. Strong, protective. And oh god, Lance’s body and heart wanted him.

Wanted him bad.

“Lance.”

“Huh?”

There was amusement in his voice. “You still with me?”

He was pressed against him, deliciously warm and hard. Everywhere.

Lance needed a clear head. “Yes,” he said, but it came out as more of a croak. He cleared his throat and said it again. “Yes, I’m still here.”

Keith studied his face, then gave him a very small smile before backing away. “Okay, good. Because we need to talk about this,”


	42. Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I lost my job due to it going bankrupt in these trying times. My tumour is being a dick and doing yet another terminator, and my laptop decided to not like me and deleted this chapter like 3 times before it decided to behave.  
> I have no money, no job, and I'm so un-everything. Kind of just want to curl up in a corner and cry.  
> So instead, I wrote this.
> 
> They do say you produce better inspired results when you're at your lowest. So...yeah.
> 
> I really need something good to happen, so hopefully this chapter makes you happy, cos then that'll make me happy.   
> Tbh, it was supposed to be the actual...like...story progressing chapter, but instead its...just something cute.
> 
> Get you a boy like Keith.
> 
> Hope you like it. 
> 
> Song inspiration -   
> Demons by Imagine Dragons  
> Replay by Shinee

We need to talk about this. 

When had that ever meant something positive? 

“Now is as good as a time as any, right?” Keith asked, reaching for Lance's hand and taking it into his own. He helped Lance over to the table and settled him down on one of the chairs. "Unless you want to do this tomorrow... _or never._..” 

It wasn’t so much as what Keith was asking, it was about what he had wanted. What did he mean by ‘they needed to talk’? About what? About how Lance had been gone for so many years? About what... what that meant for them? What was he going to do? Was Keith expecting...more? Did he want to break up? He had said he loved him. But maybe Keith was second guessing everything now? Maybe his version of love was different to Lance’s?

No. That can’t be right. Keith had waited seven years for him. But... what if, in those seven years, he had found someone else? It was a lot to have someone wait so long for them, with no contact, nothing to even say that they were still alive. 

He grasped onto the sides of his head, clenching his hair and shaking the thoughts out of his mind. All of this thinking wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He knew this. But he was so scared. So worried. He really didn’t want to lose him. 

“You’re not going to lose me,” Keith’s voice was a whisper in the darkness of his mind. Lance looked up at him, saw he was holding two steaming mugs of something sweet smelling. He handed one of the mugs to Lance. “I should have phrased it all better,” he said with a slight smile. 

“You think?” Lance mewled, not sure what to do. He reached for the mug and placed it on the table next to him. Keith followed suit, placing his mug next to Lance’s and knelt down on the ground before Lance. Holding onto his hands and dragging them down from his hair. 

“Hey there, pretty blue eyes,” He said with a breath taking smile. His own hair still sleep frazzled and his eyes half lidded. But the way he spoke, it did things to Lance. 

“Will...will you leave me?” he stated, because that was the cusp of his thoughts in the end. He couldn’t help but act like this. He had never felt like this before. He had never been given the chance to, and now...now that he had it, had Keith, he really didn’t want this bubble to burst. 

He was going to take a stand, right here, right now. He had been through hell, and he was older and better and stronger for it. He was no longer the child he had once been, simpering and scared. He was going to take what he wanted, and what he wanted right now was Keith in his arms and his family all safe and sound. 

Keith’s grip tightened on his hands, dragging them to his lips and pressing a kiss to the insides of both of his wrists. Their gazes locked, Lance knew he knew what he was thinking. He let out a small breath, a smile escaping his lips without his permission. 

“I promised you forever,” he murmured, looking so determined that Lance couldn’t find a reason to doubt him. Lance noticed the bracelet, the one he had given Keith all those days— _years_ ago. It looked a little scuffled and cuffed from the years. But it still shone so bright. His star shine. His everything. 

He found his next words spilling from his lips so easily, words that would have taken him years to try and stutter out had it been anyone else but Keith. 

“I love you,” 

But it wasn’t just that. Not just those three words. He had said it so many times in his mind, so many times out loud to Keith. But this, this was different. This was so much more. It was a scant whisper in the air, but it encompassed his entire heart. It meant more than just _love._ It was a promise, a contract, a preposition. Whatever. It was their forever. 

Soulmates. 

It sounded silly, but...well, he felt like they were so much more than just that. They were star dust, sparkling in the skies, gravitating to one another. Their shared dreams, their projections, their abilities, their everything. They were stars. Cosmic and beautiful and bright. And nothing was going to change that. Not anymore. 

The thoughts ricocheted between them and it made Keith want to surge up and kiss him, to hold onto him tight and squeeze him close. But he wanted to look at Lance first, wanted to sear his pretty flushed face into his memory. He had heard everything Lance had been thinking, what he meant. And he wanted to keep this moment and let it last for as long as he was able to. 

Temptation won out soon after. Their hearts beating madly, his breath caught in his throat, fingers grasping and twining against Lance’s in a sweet tangle. 

“I love you too,” he sought to reply in kind, hoping that if he said it in the same low breath Lance spoke in, he’d understand. He always did. They kept this moment sweet. “So much,” he added, mostly for his own sanity, looking at those tempting lips pouting a little with his bright smile. “I desperately want to kiss you,”

“So, why don’t you?” Lance replied, closing his eyes in his consent and waiting for the inevitable, yet definitely wonderful kiss he would give.

“Don’t tempt me,” Keith breathed low, reaching for him, large, warm hands cradling Lance’s face, fingers slipping behind to bury into his hair and hold his neck. He lifted Lance up from the chair with that hand and in one fluid motion, he crushed Lance’s body to his own. “But we really need to talk,”

“Less talk, more kissing,” Lance growled, trying to move out of Keith’s strong grasp. “I have seven whole years of making out with you to do, I mean have you _seen_ yourself? Because wow, baby, you’re really—”

He gasped and Keith kissed him, taking his very breath from his body. His lips were sweet, just a press of skin against skin, something that always made Lance wonder why a kiss would feel anything more than him pressing his mouth to his own skin. But ay dios, kissing Keith was like heat. It was mirth. It was intense. It was like a fissure of lightning. It was everything he desired, yet not enough at the same time. His hands clasped tightly against Keith’s, fingers grasping tightly and tangling, his body aching for something more.

“Lance,” Keith breathed his name into his mouth. “We…we gotta… _oh fuck,”_

Yes. That’s it. That’s what he wanted. Fuck. Holy fuck. He felt reverent like this, like something worth being sought for. Right there and then, he understood what it meant to love and be loved in return. To be desired.

Keith pulled away then, slow and tentative, lips so close to one another they were practically still kissing. “W-wait…I said I wasn’t going…I was going to give you _time,_ ”

"I'll stop time, we'll have plenty of time then," Lance whined, wrinkling his nose cutely and pulled Keith in closer, their noses bumping and hearts yearning for more. But Keith didn’t relent. He settled Lance back into his seat and took his own.

“Let’s talk.” he said, and Lance was glad Keith was just as breathless as he was. His skin was also a pretty flush of red and that alone made Lance’s mouth salivate. He reached for the mugs and handed Lance his own, creating a barrier between them so he didn’t succumb to kissing him again.

Lance was grateful for it, but he was also a little peeved. Because he knew Keith was doing that thing, that instinctive thing people did to show that they could provide, showing that he did indeed love Lance for more than just a bodily reaction, more than just caveman thoughts that brought two people together.

Keith wanted to take care of him. He could see that in everything he had done for him, for his family. With the way he touched him, the warmth and safety, with the way he spoke to him.

Lance…well…he liked it.

“We need to talk about our relationship,” Keith stated clearly and concisely, going straight into a more serious voice. And for this moment, Lance was happy he was treating this as something serious, as something logical. As something worth thinking so strongly about.

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” Lance asked, sipping slightly at the warm drink. He let out a low moan as the taste of cinnamon and sweetened spices burst on his tongue.

“That,” Keith replied, motioning to the sounds Lance had been making. “It’s taking every part of my control to not throw that mug from your hand and fuck you on this table,”

Lance choked, placing the drink down on the table. He had not just said what he thought he had said, right? 

“I…I know you’ve _grown,_ ” he grimaced at that. “But…we need to talk boundaries, _I need to know how far you want me to take it, because god, I can’t not touch you,”_

The thoughts echoed in his head, projected from Keith’s own mind into his own, private, between just them and not even the air around them. He continued talking, as if he hadn’t just rocked Lance’s thoughts six week to Sunday.

“I want to know…like, limits, what we want from one another, our safe words, _aishh,_ you make me lose control,”

Lance sucked in a breath, his mind going a mile a minute. Thoughts of them both together in all sorts of ways ricocheted in his mind, from cute dates, walks in the park, coffee shops, all the way to Keith towering over him as he brought him to yet another climax.

_Ay dios._

"Will we... _need_ a safe word?" he asked, embarrassed but glad they were talking about this now. At three in the morning, while they were both in their pyjamas. He couldn’t say he hadn’t been… _interested_ in this kind of a thing when he was younger. His brother Marco had that secret stash of magazines under his bed, and Lance had always been a curious kid.

“I don’t want you to worry about my… _intentions,”_ Keith continued, hiding his eyes, his cheeks and the tips of his ears a bright red. “But…I…I want you to know you are safe, that…that if you ever feel scared or…or…want to stop, then…with no repercussions to our relationship, I...just, I want you to be happy,”

Lance nodded. Keith had a point. He had grown in the world these past seven years. Lance had been isolated. Though his body and mind had grown, his world view was still the same as when he had first been taken. He wasn’t sure just _what_ new fangled things were out there, ready to be explored. And he was glad that Keith had the thought to talk about this now. They were finally living together, both consenting adults. Both…ready for…for _that._

Sex. Yes. He was ready for sex. He could say it. God, he wanted to have sex with Keith. But he had never had a proper relationship before. He wasn’t really _sure_ what to do. What was the _lingo_ of…fuck 2020. Was that really the year!

“Alright,” he nodded, trying to keep his pounding heart and imagination at bay. “I…will have to think about a good safe word to use, but I understand,”

Keith nodded, hiding his smile behind his mug. “Okay. Good.”

“I don’t want to do anything where I don’t feel safe, or get hurt, or stuff,” Lance replied almost instantly, not giving Keith the time to process his own thought process.

Keith’s eyes widened. “I…I was just...with our relatio—okay, okay. We can talk about that.”

Wait, wasn’t that what this conversation was about? About them taking the next step, and doing all that grown up stuff, like having sex and doing taxes and living together and fucking on every available surface? Wasn’t that what lovers in a new house did?

Keith’s reddened cheeks made Lance rethink everything.

“No, no, baby, no. I want to, _fuck do I want to,”_ Keith said quickly. “I just didn’t think…I thought you’d want to wait. It's a big shock for you and I just wanted you to know that our relationship was the _same,_ just more... _more?_ ”

Lance was turning a bright red, he could feel the heat on his whole body. He did feel giddy at just how flustered Keith was getting. He was so fucking adorable.

“I waited,” He replied, grin slowly falling. “Seven whole years we waited.”

His cheeks a pretty red against his dark skin, his eyes glaring intensely at his lap. Fuck. Keith was already so gone for him but seeing Lance like this? Screw it, he was this close to taking that mug and putting it on the table. He’d rather prefer eating Lance out right here at the table and show him exactly just how much Keith wanted him, than drink the rest of the honeyed milk anyway.

But, the drinks were getting cold. He had been holding the mug to his lips for a scant too long as he focused on watching Lance. He was so beautiful. He looked so relaxed, so wonderful. So interesting and invigorating at the same time. He was here, in his house. They were living together now!

“…you’ll teach me, right?”

Keith’s eyes widened, he hadn’t been listening. He cocked his head to one side comically. Trying to read his thoughts, trying to figure out why his face was an even deeper shade of red now. He looked so earnest, determined and worried. He was choking on his words, his thoughts riffling like a pachinko machine, not ending in a systematic order. But there was one thing, one large, glaring thing that rushed up into his mind, screaming at him with such propose that it made Keith stumbled back.

“I can’t suck your cock!” his thoughts cried, looking up at him, his eyes a shimmering brightly in his embarrassment. 

Huh…. _huh?_ Lance had said it so abruptly it stunned him. His eyes widened and he fell back onto the chair. He had _not_ been expecting that. He hadn’t even _thought—_ he…what? 

Lance looked down to his lap again. “I mean…I know how guys likethat kind of thing, but I’ve never…I don’t think I’ll be—no I _know_ I won’t be good at—” 

“Baby, you were my first kiss, and look, you’re a pro at it now,” Keith cut him off, feeling a wave of affection rush over him. Lance was feeling safe and happy enough to talk about something so embarrassing for him. It was endearing and _so fucking cute!_

“I’m not a _pro—_ you took my first kiss too, you know,” He replied, hiding his red face in his hands, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole already. 

Keith chuckled, finding it hard to hold his glee back. “If you want, I’ll teach you how to _suck my cock,_ as you so aptly put it,” 

Lance groaned into his fingers. How was Keith being so normal about all of this? When he wished he would just crumble into dust or slink away and hide, never showing his face again.

Keith reached for him then, lifting him up from the chair. What was he going to do now? Excitement coursed thought him, all sorts of ideas rushing through his mind. He knew they weren’t going to just jump right into the brunt of it now, but…what were they going to do?He trusted Keith, after everything they had been through. Keith had proven to him, countless of times, that he was a good man, that he loved him too. But now, Lance had given him permission.

Lance felt bashful as he grasped Keith slightly larger hand. But he followed as Keith took him out of the kitchen and up to his own bedroom. Lance quirked his eyebrow. Okay, so he was a little scared that Keith sought the bedroom straight away. He had said he wanted to go slow, but Lance wasn’t sure what the hell he was going to do if he wanted something like that so quickly.

He had been looking forward to a little more making out, though. He trusted Keith. Keith was a good man. He wasn’t going to hurt him. And if Lance didn’t like whatever it was they were doing, then he could stop them.

Keith pushed the door open to his room, it was sparsely decorated, a cupboard and dresser against the wall, the bed had a mess of covers from when Keith had gotten out of bed. It looked like it needed a little more of a homey touch. And that was where Lance was going to come in.

Keith settled on the bed, motioning for Lance to follow. Lance looked a little sceptical, only because he wasn’t sure where this was going, but he settled into the space next to him anyway. Keith’s lips turned down at the corners and he patted his lap. 

“Come here, darlin’” he said in a voice that made Lance’s insides flutter.

Well, if Keith wanted him to sit on his lap, then he’d sit on his lap. Keith took hold of him by his waist, large hands wrapping and taking a tight hold of his hips, and he easily lifted Lance up from his spot.

“Straddle me,” he stated simply, waiting for Lance to move his bare legs the way he had wanted. Lance felt like a small child then, like a kitten being manhandled. Ay dios, it shouldn’t feel so hot that Keith could just do this to him, so easily. He complied, knees knocking against the back of the headrest as he sat straddled over Keith’s lap. It was when he was carefully situated with Keith between his legs that Keith dropped him onto his thighs. 

Lance’s cheeks flushed a bright red as he looked directly into those alluring eyes. Those galaxy grey were something else this close up. His arms fell limp to his sides, his body rigid and straight in his embarrassment. Keith’s fingers splayed over his hips, reaching his back and he tugged Lance forward until Lance curled up into him. 

Lance gasped, feeling his warmth, content with their proximity. He felt so cared for like this, so safe and warm. The world could end around them, crumble to the very ground, and he’d be content just to be here, in Keith’s arms. 

“Finally,” he murmured, mostly to himself, holding onto Lance and murmuring into his ear. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” 

Lance nodded, understanding just what he meant. Everything had been so intense these past few days. But this, their foreheads resting together, looking into those eyes and just being, their hearts melting together, into something so much more warmer, stronger. Lance burrowed himself into Keith’s embrace, his body relaxing in such wonder.

“I never want to leave,” Lance murmured, lost in the haze of his arms. He heard Keith chuckle, a deep rumble in his chest against his own. 

He patted the back of Lance head, “You’ll never have to,”

Lance almost purred at that, feeling his heart beat increase just that much so he could hear the heavy thud, thud, thud of it in his ears. Looking into his pretty eyes, he was still worried about what was to come, about the warehouse and how it had been seven whole years since he had this. But right here, right now, he couldn’t help but smile. 

Keith smiled back, grip tightening around his waist as he moved Lance so his head was resting on his chest. “Rest now, my aien, we’ll get to the world saving tomorrow.” 


	43. Today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...my plan of getting this finished before Halloween was a dud.  
> I've had...an awful week. I'm so sorry if this shows in my chapter. I'll probably come back to it and rewrite it or do better.
> 
> Hope you like it, regardless.

There was something weird about waking up in a place you didn’t know. 

Not to say Lance was scared. This was a place he knew, a place he had expected to wake up in. He felt safe, and warm and comfortable knowing he was in his new home, with Keith. Opening his blurry gaze, blinking at the yellowing hue of sunlight blocked by the thick curtains, he grinned. 

Everything was strangely warm with a nice morning glow. It made him feel...gooey inside. 

The room was just as sparse as when he had first followed Keith into it last night, though it had been dark then, he had still been able to see the furniture. The bed was the largest piece of furniture of the room, in the very middle of the room, a small desk with a laptop on it on one side, filled with a few papers, a few notebooks, textbooks, and all sorts of things. There was a large bookcase with a few books placed haphazardly on it, and a few trinkets – many he noticed came from his own home, or had something Cuban or Spanish to them. 

Sweet.

He sat up, taking in his surroundings. The sheets covering his body pooled to his lap, warm from his heat. The bed was soft, yet firm under him, the pillows smelled like Keith – hell, everything smelled like Keith, that absolutely beautiful scent that made him all gooey again. He felt a cooling breeze at his leg and saw that his feet were out from the covers, bare – which was odd because Lance always wore pyjamas to bed. He must have kicked them off in the middle of the night.

Then again, he hadn’t really been alone last night. Keith had been with him. He had spent the night cuddling with his boyfriend, listening to him breathing, his heart beating. He had felt so loved, so cherished, wrapped up in his arms, pressed so close to him. 

The conversation they had had in the kitchen had been so deep, and so good. They had laid everything out on the table, talking about their relationship, what they expected and what they had wanted to happen between them. He still felt like he needed time to adjust to this new world. Living with his boyfriend was one thing, but having to figure out what the new lingo to the world was, he was adamant to find out what ‘netflix and chill’ was, he had spied on Keith's phone and saw Pidge say that phrase and it had made him wonder. 

Keith had kindly let him borrow his phone when he had came out of the hospital a week ago – having said he would get him his own one as soon as he was able to. Lance had spent a lot of time on that phone, researching life on the internet, refreshing and reviewing the world for the past seven years he had missed. 

He saw it was on the side table, and reached for it. Unlocking it, he pondered whether he should actually consider doing what he had wanted to do. He wasn’t sure if he should search for what was currently running through his mind. He didn't really want Keith to have that in his history. He could probably just _talk_ to him like a normal person after all.

How do people suck cocks? The conversation they had had the night before was still strumming through his mind. Keith had wanted him, wanted to be with him intimately, he wanted more than just what they had. And Lance, though he was sure he was ready, really needed to research this.

He still couldn't believe half of the things he had blurted out. Had he really told him he wanted to suck his cock? 

Oh god!

He couldn’t help the bright smile on his face. He was glad he had gotten that all out. It would have been awkward if he stumbled and did something weird the first time they did anything more than just a heated make out. Crap, he couldn’t wait. 

It hadn’t even been twelve hours since he and Keith had started living together, but Lance felt more alive and awake than he had in a long time. He felt so bright and happy and so loved and cherished and his heart was pounding so hard. Everything in the world felt so right. So perfect. It was strange. He felt giddy. He felt courageous, like he could do anything he wanted without hesitation. 

But he was distracted, so very distracted. Every few moments, he felt as if something was with him, someone was watching him, something in the corner of his mind was standing next to him, smiling brightly, pressed up against his back. It didn’t feel like a bad thing. Not like a bad omen. It felt _good._ He knew it was Keith watching over him, telling him in his own way that he was there, that Lance didn't have to be afraid anymore. 

But it felt like his entire body was itching for something, but he didn’t know what that was about.

Keith’s phone buzzed in his hand, startling him from his thoughts. Looking down, he saw it was a message from Pidge. He held the phone tightly in his hand and smiled at the name. He gazed at it, reading the first line of the text on the screen, grinning widely. He felt a familiar tug in the pit of his stomach. He was so happy that Keith was friends with his friends, that the time he had been away had actually done some good for his antisocial boyfriend. 

He jolted again when the phone buzzed again, he thought it would be best to give the phone to Keith, after all Pidge obviously wanted to talk to him. He gave the phone a look, and threw the warm covers over his body. He got up from the bed, smiling at the soft and warm carpet under his feet. 

He tugged at the hem of the long shirt he was wearing – Keith really had grown in the past few years. Reaching an arm out for a wayward pyjama bottom he found on the floor, he slipped them on and smirked at the fact that he could see his ankles. His boyfriend might be wider in his chest, but he was still shorter than Lance. 

God, Keith was on his mind again. He always was. But that familiar feeling of Keith watching over him. Keith had grown so much stronger over the years. It was as if he was there, in the background, not really bothering him. He was just there. 

It was nice. 

But he couldn’t blame himself, their conversation last night was definitely still swarming in his heart. He still didn’t understand why he had blurted everything out. Why had his heart demanded for more so quickly? Why did he feel like without Keith, he wouldn’t be able to live. 

And that kiss... 

He ran his fingers over his lips, feeling the ghostly remnants of Keith’s lips against his own. He was still so shocked that something as simple as skin on skin could feel so...good. Especially the way Keith was pressed up against him, so hot and smooth, and the soft noises he was making when they deepened the kisses. 

Crap, he was doing it again. He needed to focus. Keith was messing with his mind, the gorgeous man. He needed to figure out what to do now. They still had to figure out what the warehouse was, and how so many years had passed for him. He really needed to get his thoughts and feelings in check. Checking his hair and clothes one last time, he made his way out of the room. 

The hallway was empty, but there was a sound coming from the kitchen area, a faint humming followed by the sounds of pots and pans. There was a sweet scent in the air, one that made him float towards it. He held a hand to his pounding heart. The itch was back, the feeling of something watching him. And he couldn’t let it go. 

Holding the phone to his chest, he padded his way to the kitchen and felt his heart warm at the sight of Keith, with his back turned, making something delicious smelling on the stove. He was moving a little, dancing lightly, as he hummed to a tune playing on the radio. A tune Lance didn’t know. He had always been so up to date with the latest things, but now... 

“We’ll just have to start again,” Keith said in a singsong voice, following the song, but singing the wrong lyrics. 

He turned and smiled brightly, the sunlight filtering from the kitchen window making him look so beautiful. Lance's breath caught in his throat. He had no right to look like that so early in the morning. Lance felt his heart pounding madly in his chest.

“Hey gorgeous,” he grinned, making his way over to Lance and ushering him to the kitchen – the same way he had done last night. “I’ve almost got breakfast ready, why don’t you get ready and we can eat,” 

Lance nodded, smiling when Keith pressed a kiss to his cheek. He made his way back to the stairs and took them slowly up. The phone buzzed once again in his hands and he placed it in his pocket. He could always give Keith his phone when he was back downstairs. 

Quickly brushing his teeth, washing his face and getting himself ready for the day ahead, he made his way back down the stairs and saw Keith placing plates on the table. He moved to the kitchen, listening to the Keith telling him where the glasses and things were. 

Soon, they were back at the table and eating the breakfast Keith had made. Eggs, pancakes, bacon, holy crap. He hadn’t thought he would get this treatment so early in the morning. 

“Anything for you,” Keith murmured, smiling as he drank his juice. Lance’s cheeks heated, but he couldn’t help but smile back. Keith was such a sweetheart. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket again, and Lance reached for it. Holding it out for Keith to take. The man looked at it with confusion, but took it. Noticing the messages, he swiped at the screen and read through the messages. Lance continued eating, the food was really delicious after all. But he stopped when he saw Keith’s eyes widen in shock. He placed his fork down and stood up from his seat. His smile wide and his eyes shining. 

“We found it!” 

Lance tilted his head to one side. He knew he didn’t have to say anything, the confusion in his thoughts would be evident enough. 

“We hadn’t stopped looking for the warehouse, and I had enlisted Pidge’s help,” Keith explained, settling back down and replying to Pidge’s text as he spoke. “She’s found the location and we can go there today.” 

“Are you sure we should go so quickly?” Not that Lance didn’t want to get all of this sorted out as quickly as possible. But he was still so tired, and he just wanted to spend a day with Keith and not have to worry about the world crashing around him. 

“I want that too,” Keith replied, reaching out and holding onto his hands. He pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, sucking in his scent as he did so. “I just...I want to make sure you’re okay,” 

“I am...” he replied, wrinkling his nose. But he understood what Keith meant. He wanted to get all of this finished, he wanted to know if the warehouse had any lasting effects on him as well. But he also just wanted to spend a day with his boyfriend god damn it. 

“We can do that, and more, after we’ve sorted everything,” Keith replied tactfully. “I...I don’t want to lose you again.” 

Lance sucked in a breath. It seemed Keith had made up his mind. They were going to get to the bottom of this. 

Today. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue adventurous superhero music!


	44. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...my laptop decided to have an affair with a can of pepsi courtesy of my nephew, and in their passionate affair, all of my documents were destroyed.  
> Honestly...I'm grateful my laptop still works.
> 
> So I've had to rewrite a lot of stuff. And I'm trying to get through the last two seasons of Supernatural, hence the...ahem...supernatural vibe. But hopefully this makes up for it all.
> 
> Also.  
> This week sucks!  
> I hope you had a good Halloween, cos mine was me stuck with my family who argued a hell of a lot for hours while I was stuck 'Ai in the middle'. Thankfully, I watched a few awesome horror movies with my friends (through face time!) and we had a bit of a fun time there.

Keith peered into his rear view mirror, checking for the umpteeth time on his alien sitting in the backseat, between Hunk and Pidge. 

It had taken both him and Lance two whole days to figure out how to successfully pin down the warehouse and how to get everyone ready for what more or less was going to be a fight to the death.

Okay, so he most definitely hoped that wasn’t the case. He just wanted it to be a quick in and out. Get in, get information, get out and then use that information to systematically destroy whatever it was that was inside there.

He still wasn’t too happy with bringing Lance back to the hellhole. He didn’t want his aein to go anywhere near that place. But it was Lance who knew where it was, and how to get in and out. He had the whole layout already in that pretty little head of his. Keith did not need any more casualties, and no more kidnapping. Not on his watch. Not ever.

Shiro’s hand on his knee jerked him from his thoughts, he looked up to see him giving him a brotherly smile of concern. 

Pidge and Hunk had banded together to try and figure out a way to successfully hide Lance’s appearance. The guards knew what he looked like, and Keith wasn’t sure if that would be a liability or not. Not wanting to take anything by half, the two had come up with an idea.

It was a stupid idea really, but Allura was a good person, and she was good with  _ spells --  _ okay, that was what he called them, she had spoken about essence and quintessence and he had pretty much stopped listening after she and her uncle Coran rambled on about the good old days. His attention was only on whether or not Lance would be okay if they tried to implement and experiment on his pretty face.

He was biased, okay. 

But it wasn’t really a spell per say, there was no real way that could potentially hide something from view, or change something, or transfigure a whole person. Not without the person being by their side the entire time, and fully concentrating. And that just wouldn’t do. Not with the fight they were going into.

So Allura had instead tried the easier approach, she used a casting spell that would morph Lance’s face into a ‘background character’, or at least that was what Lance had said. He would still be there, still just as beautiful as he always was. But to others eyes, he was easy to miss, basically a ghost, a background character. There, but not important.

Impossible.

The idea, however, was a solid one. The spell itself was to be used for cosmetic purposes, such as to hide scars and things that would stand out in a normal crowd. -- Keith had already declined her spell for the scar across his cheek, he had seen just how intense Lance would look at him with the scar, and he was happy to keep it there, thank you very much.

They hadn’t really been sure if it would work. Not that they didn’t trust Allura, but it was a basic spell morphed into something entirely new. Allura, Hunk and Pidge had spent the past two nights searching their archives -- for some reason, they had archives, and that was somewhat worrying for Keith, but he let it go, because it was helpful to know how to kill a beat if he ever came across one. If telekinetics, necromancers and time jumpers were real, what was to stop vampires and werewolves from being real too?

It was becoming all too supernatural-like for him to wrap his head around.

They soon ended up with a lotion type cream that was light, portable and easy to apply. Perfect for the current situation.

He had been wary to try it on Lance, he wasn’t sure what it would do. So he had insisted Allura try it on him first. Though he loathed to have the scar taken away from his face, it was better if they tried it on him first.

Lance had held onto his hand as Allura had applied the syrup like cream on his face, pressing lightly against the raised scar. Sure enough, when he was handed a mirror, the cream had actually worked. His scar had slowly dissolved and distorted to look like his natural skin.

Wow.

“It’s tingly,” he remembered saying, but there had been no pain or any adverse effect with the cream itself. So Lance was okay to use it, and if anything did happen, they could wash the cream straight off.

Keith took the cream from Allura and slowly applied the cream on his pretty face with gusto, watching as his face distorted under his fingers. His pretty straight nose rounded a little, pointing up, his ears bending into a curve, his chin filling out a little, his high cheekbones not as prominent. He was still Lance, but...not.

His skin was still so soft and warm, his eyes the same beautiful blue that Keith had fallen madly in love with. But he was...well, he was safe.

And that was more than enough for Keith now. At least the bad guys wouldn’t focus on Lance now. They would not see him as the one that got away. Just another bystander in their group. Just another normal person.

They were heading to the warehouse.

The car was surprisingly more silent than Keith had first thought it would be. He had expected thoughts to be rushing everywhere, he had expected light watercooler talk to lighten the mood. He had expected to have to position his earbuds in his ears again. 

But no. Everything was silent. Taking another look at his rearview mirror, he saw Lance sitting in the back, playing with his fingers while looking out of the window, Hunk and Pidge in similar states. Hunk’s arm around Lance’s shoulders, showing him solidarity and as much peace as he was able to.

Hunk had that effect on people. Keith had learned very quickly that the large Samoan could clear the very tension in the air with a simple stare. He could turn the tides of a crying child to happy silence. He could block the very tension in everyone’s mind so Keith didn’t have to listen to everyone complain.

He didn’t have to do that now. But Keith was somewhat thankful. He didn’t think he could take everyone else’s tense feelings alongside his own.

He knew it couldn’t have been easy. He could read straight through Hunk after all. It wasn’t easy hiding anything like that from him. He had seen Hunk try and fail to calm him down, to try and help him. But Keith had also seen him get better, grow up and actually, finally, help him keep those wayward thoughts at bay.

It had been a very long time since he had last heard the sounds of the dark thing in his head talk to him, telling him such awful and horrible things, and he had Hunk to help him with that.

He had every single one of them to help him through the dark cloud over his head since Lance had disappeared all those years ago. But he had to thank his fathers’ and mother most of all.

Shiro sat shotgun next to him, poring through a large book. How he was able to do that while in a car and not get nauseous was still a mystery to Keith. But apparently, after speaking with Pidge on the location of the warehouse Lance had escaped from, they had found out that there was a lot more at work here.

Pidge had spoken to the towns’ sheriff, who had told her everything -- though Keith blamed the fact that Adam was close by and able to somehow get the sheriff to tell them everything without taking a breath, there was something about his abu that made him falter a little. It was difficult keeping anything quiet and secret around the therapist.

The sheriff had told them that there had been victims a few meters away from the warehouse, all different ages and races, but each with similar markings on their tongues. Markings that resembled a long v-shape.

Taking that into consideration, Pidge and Adam had searched the local areas and found similar victims with markings on their tongues, in three different places all over the country. The most recent, and closest to the warehouse itself were where they were heading.

The victims bodies, the sheriff had told Adam, had been ravaged and ripped open to the point where they had thought it was a savage beast. However, the victims had also been completely drained of their blood and their hearts had been cut out and taken with an almost surgical precision.

Either there was some kind of weird werewolf-vampire hybrid running around, or this was some weird cult like thing. 

Keith wasn’t going to put anything to rest until he got to the bottom of this. Ever since he had heard the story, he couldn’t help but imagine one of the victims being Lance. Lance lying there in the middle of a ditch somewhere, drained of blood, ripped to pieces without his heart.

It had taken him a long while to get over the images in his head, and having Lance in his arms, soothing him with his mouth and his words, had helped him a lot.

Over the past few hours, the body count by the warehouse had continued to rise. Three victims more, and he could tell Lance was panicking. He had known the people in the warehouse, he had taken them all out to safety. But what if some of them had been caught?

They needed to come up with a foolproof plan. First they would settle into the town and figure out the layout of the place, speak to a few people, and then figure out just how they were going to go about doing this.

Keith had only ever hunted for game, not for people. And he wasn’t really sure if any of his friends would be able to take a life.

He parked his car in an empty spot at the “Come and Stay Inn”, which was somehow not as dodgy as any of the other motels in the entire town. He didn’t want to stay here for too long.

And he was slowly getting weird thoughts of a tv show of two brothers who did similar things like this around America, from Pidge. Pushing that thought far back, he followed Shiro as they ordered the rooms. They got two rooms in total, The rooms looked like small cottages and apartments around the large lot. Keith helped Lance out of the car, grabbing onto his hand and keeping him close.

He made sure to watch Hunk and Pidge come out of the car and go to the room on the left, where Shiro was waiting to usher them in, while he and Lance would take the one on the right.

They paid for their cottage style rooms and set everything up. They still needed to find the bad guys ‘spooky hideout’. Thankfully, Keith had learned a few things from Allura, alongside learning how to scry.

That woman was more a witch than anything else.

He laid a map of the town onto the small breakfast table, watching as Lance shuffled through his suitcase, taking out a few things and heading to the bathroom to get ready for the night. Keith pricked his finger and let a few drops of his blood slip onto the crystal at the end of the long chain.

The blood slipped from the crystal point and onto the map, travelling towards a simple space on the map.

The warehouse.


	45. Here

“An abandoned warehouse,” Pidge piped up, holding what looked like a radar to the building before them.

Keith rolled his eyes, but he stood on high alert anyway. They had done this before, gotten this far, saw absolutely nothing, only to be ambushed by  _ something.  _ His hand pressed to his scar in faint memory of that  _ thing  _ whatever it had been, getting the jump on him.

It was late fall, a handful of leaves still clinging to the trees, hoping for a few more days of sunshine, but many having fallen to the ground, covering the street with a pretty carpet of red and gold.  If he had the time, Keith would have appreciated the view, he could hear Lance gushing at the loveliness of it all, under the fear of going back into that place. If Keith had his way, Lance would be at home with Adam, safe and sound.

Hell, he would have preferred Lance to be at the motel they had spent the night in, at least that place was safer than here. Lance had conked out when Keith had run his fingers through his soft hair, curled into him as they shared the bed -- they had left Shiro, Pidge and Hunk to the other room next door, knowing that if there were any problems, the two mind readers could converge immediately.

Keith felt so at peace, listening to Lance snoring peacefully into his chest, softly grasping at the scratchy material of the small bed. He wished they could go back to that time.

Instead, he stood, hidden, behind the gates leading to the abandoned warehouse before them. After the scrying spell, to which Keith was still surprised worked, but then again Allura was amazing after all. They found out this was where the victims bodies were brought to be drained and branded.

Fists clenched to his sides, he was so grateful that Lance was okay, that he hadn’t had to go through such pain. But that still left the thought, why? Had Lance been spared? Had his consistent jumping back in time caused a disruption and though, to the world seven years had passed, but in reality it had only been a few days? Or was it something else entirely?

He wasn’t ruling anything out.

They had sought to go to the police first, to speak first hand with the sheriff, but without Adam -- who Shiro had told to stay put with Krolia and guard the home, Adam hadn’t been very happy with that, but he did as he was told. -- they would't be able to keep up the pretense of being junior detectives, or whatever.

Shiro was twenty five, but the rest of them were nineteen and sixteen respectfully. It would be hard to even let one of them go through. So instead, Pidge had used her techno-wizardry, and had gathered intel on the situation at hand.  There were mountains of bodies dropping left, right and centre. The police reports on the matter had said that this had to be the work of a serial killer, his MO being that he would kill the victims and then surgically remove the hearts. His calling card was the brandings on the tongue. The weird triangle shape. And then they would dump the bodies in locations all over the city.

Fuck, he had thoroughly checked Lance’s pretty mouth when he had first heard of that, scouring through his mind to see if Lance remembered anything that happened. But Lance was safe, there was nothing wrong with him. No branding, no trauma, other than the obvious.

Wrapping himself tightly in his jacket, Keith failed to notice the beauty of the season, abject misery clouding his sight instead. The images Pidge had shown them of the poor victims had made his stomach turn. They still looked alive, as if they were only sleeping. Their skins ashen white, and sunken in a little. 

But...peaceful.

God, what a morbid thought.

He was getting tired, his mind returning to getting Lance out of here, he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be anywhere near here. But he had insisted, and he knew the warehouse inside and out. So Keith focused his stress on the entrance to the building. There hadn’t been signs of anyone yet.

Reading the thoughts of the local bar, Shiro had found one of the staff had seen someone shifty entering the warehouse.  Pidge and Hunk had taken shelter in the car on the other side of the building, binoculars out, parked a lot closer than they were. But they were safe. Keith preferred being out here anyway, ready to ambush the warehouse if he needed to, to get in, get the intel and get out.

Simple.

Looking up at the looming storm clouds, he sighed heavily. That didn’t seem like a good omen.

_ ‘This is ridiculous,’  _ Lance’s wonderful voice thought to him. ‘ _ There is no one here. It’d be easier for me to stop time and we can just walk to the door.’ _

Though he was right, Keith wasn’t about to let Lance go into danger again. Not so soon after he had just come out of it. 

The irony wasn’t lost on him. He had trained with his fathers and mother to be the master of stealth, trained hard in the art, experienced hunting at its finest and most scariest. Yet here he was, trying his hardest to not be discovered from something that was no longer there anymore. 

He laughed bitterly, wondering how he had gotten into this situation.

Lance…

He had a responsibility now. He had promised the very reason for his existence, the love of his life, the reason for his being. So he shook all thought from his mind and focused on the doorway.

Lance was right.

“Damn it,” he whispered harshly, tightening his grip tighter on his knife as another gust of frigid wind clew through the trees.

Rolling his eyes upwards towards the looming clouds, Keith heard Lance sigh out loud. This was going nowhere. Not only were they freezing, now they were both going to be drenched under what promised to be a torrential downpour. He closed his eyes as Lance leaned the side of his body against the brick.

They were just going to have to do it. They were going to have to use Lance’s time stopping ability to get in there. Fuck.

_ “Keith...” _

Keith’s eyes snapped open. He cast his sights in all directions, honing his senses to the slightest of sounds. Where did that come from? It didn’t sound like any of the others, and there was no one else on the street other than him and Lance, and Lance was still leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, mouth tightly pressed together. In fear.

His gaze turned to their car parked on the street, and he could see Pidge sitting there, watching the building with a pair of binoculars. Did no one else hear that?

_ “Keith!” _

The second call of his name made him brace his fingers tighter on the hilt of his knife, he held it up in front of him.

“Lance?” he turned to the man, and saw he hadn’t moved from the spot. Still standing there looking at the warehouse for any kind of movement.

_ “Help me, Keith!” _

“Hey wait...its opening!” 

Keith’s dark eyes focused on the noise and the movement of the main shutter doors again. There was still no change. But that voice, had someone seen them? Stepping out from their perch, he saw Lance hold on tight to a gun -- courtesy of Lance’s mother of all people, to be used to keep him safe after all, and for once Keith was glad Lance had some kind of weapon to protect himself. -- he motioned for Keith to follow.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, he reached for it, saw it was Hunk calling and took the call. They slowly continued making their way to the warehouse.

“What’s happening?” Hunk asked, his voice low.

“You didn’t hear that?”

Hunk paused, as if listening in. “What?”

“Someone’s calling my name,” Keith replied, his gaze running back to the large warehouse. It still looked empty, abandoned. “You two stay in the car, as back up.”

“Baby, really?” Lance pressed a hand to his shoulder, pulling him back. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to go in,”

He wanted to argue the same for Lance, but he noticed the silvery gleam of the shutters didn’t reach all the way to the ground. That wasn’t right. They had definitely been completely closed before. But now, they were slightly open from the bottom. A gap large enough for him to get through.

Keith was shaken from his thoughts as Lance started talking. “Did you see that?”

He didn’t get a chance to ask what Lance meant, as Lance started swiftly making his way over to the warehouse doors. Keith cried out Lance’s name, wondering just what it was he had seen to have him rush towards it.  Keith was usually the impulsive one between them. Weapons poised, Keith followed Lance towards the gap in the wall. Whatever it was hadn’t attacked them, or seen them. Or maybe they had, and they were waiting for them both to come in. 

It was a disturbing revelation to have.

Keith didn’t think, he steeled himself and prepared for whatever was going to jump at them. He didn’t know who the person was, or how strong, or if he had any abilities. But that wasn’t going to stop Keith from keeping his family safe.

There was no information on how this person, or people, looked like, no sightings or witnesses, nothing at all.  The brandings on the victims’ tongues were too generic, either that or they were so ancient that there was nothing written on them. It was hard to come up with anything. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he took the opportunity to catalogue all the sights around him.

The warehouse looked so normal, brick walls, high windows, tall ceilings. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it was sprawling with evil, with some kind of miasmic sickness inside. The architecture was huge, larger than most warehouses.  It boasted treachery, danger. He could sense through the outer, welcoming layers, there were shadows of unknown horrors.

He ducked down, peering into the space between the metal shutters and the ground. It was open far enough for both of them to roll through. Taking a look through, he noticed the coast was clear, nodding to Lance, he rolled through. Lance followed behind, fucking and rolling on the dirty ground.  Standing up, they saw they were in an empty warehouse, the only light coming from the entrance and from the broken and peeled spots on the lacquered and lead painted windows high up at the ceiling.  The heavy scent of blood and burned bodies made him want to gag.

“What the quiznak,”

Keith hushed him, motioning to the small four walled enclosure in the very middle of the room. The walls were solid, but there were opened slats at the very tops of the walls. What was trapped in there?

Stepping closer, Keith could distinctively see smoke coming out from the horizontal slats, then returning back inside, as if whatever it was inside was trying to reach out. A hand emerged through the slats, dark, dripping with sludge and smoky.

The warehouse suddenly darkened as the door shut with a clang behind them, the lacquered windows letting little light in. It was too dark to really see anything.  He pulled out a torch and clicked it on, the sudden darkness was hit with a low beam of light. Lance followed and pulled his own torch out, waving the beam this way and that.

“K-Keith?” Lance whispered harshly in the darkness, reaching a hand out for him. “Did you see that?”

Keith latched onto his hand, holding it tight and bringing him closer. “What the hell was that? It looked like a dementor,”

“A...what?”

Keith shook his head, knife held in front of him as he tugged Lance a little more behind him. “Harry Potter, we can watch the movies when we get out of here,”

“They made movies? Does that mean the series is finished?”

“Focus babe,” Keith replied. “And be careful, I can’t get a reading of anything in here,”

The temperature around them suddenly dropped to almost freezing. The two huddled together, back to back, in the darkness, their weapons held out and ready.

Lance sucked in a breath, seeing his breath through the darkness. “Well, I always wanted a winter date,”

Keith chuckled. But paused when he heard an ominous groaning coming from the boxed room ahead of them. He felt both his fear and Lance's emulate together, his grip tightened on Lance's hand, making sure he was still close by.

Whoever closed the door was still here.


	46. Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...no one told me life was going to be this way.  
> (clap clap clap clap)  
> Life sucks guys...this current lockdown in UK has caused me great stress. All my job applications have been rejected as employers are not looking for new employees now.  
> I've...lost it a mighty good few times over the course of this month, and I swear I'm going to fall into the suckiness of it all and do something extremely stupid.
> 
> God, it's 4am, what am I doing. Distracting myself with writing. 
> 
> Ahem, so on a good note, the thing that happened in Supernatural is amazing and then it's all....yeah! (no spoilers)  
> And hey! Congrats to all my American friends and peeps for ejecting that orange wotsit out of the airlock! (I have been playing too much Among Us, I am sorry... Maybe the lava pit would be better fit for him?) 
> 
> Also. I'm stupidly in Corpse Husband and Sykkuno hell. And I'm happy about it. It's my current chill every time I think I'm going to do the stupid thing.  
> I've been playing Among Us and constantly an imposter, so I thought I'd watch other people play on YouTube, and just kind of got lost in the whole...wowness of it all.
> 
> I kink voices, and those two are God Tier level for me, completely opposite in the spectrum, but my god. They are homg and funny.  
> And hell, I know they aren't really a couple or anything (I think they're both straight and good friends) but I love to watch them play together, and flirt together.
> 
> NGL I am in hell.  
> Dont send help. I'm good.

The warehouse darkened as the doors shut with a heavy clang behind the two. The lacquered windows high on the tall ceilings was the only source of light for them. It was too dark to see anything, even each other.

Keith pulled out the torch and clicked it on. The sudden darkness was enveloped by a streaking bright beam of white light. Lance followed suit and pulled out his own torch, waving the beam of the light this way and that around the room, hand poised and mind ready if he needed to stop time for any reason.

Whoever had closed the shutters behind them was most likely still in the room with them.

He saw Keith motioning for them to spread out but make their way over to the small boxed room in the centre of the building. Whatever was in the warehouse with them was obviously trying to protect whatever was in this small box room.

Lance silently told him exactly what he thought of that idea, but sucked in a deep breath as he made his way around one side of the room. He didn’t like being so far away from Keith, where he couldn't see him to protect him. But he could hear the others breaths quickening as they made their way through the warehouse, sweeping the area for any potential threats.

He flashed his torch to the small box room in the centre, and saw the weird smokey whatever it was seeping in and out from the slats at the very top.

But as he got closer, he started to also hear a small, groaning sound, like a moan. It was saying a word over and over again.

...Keith, it was calling out for Keith!

Why was it saying Keith’s name? What did it want with him? Could Keith not hear it? Was he not close enough to hear the sickly voice call out to him?

He didn’t get a chance to wonder about that, as they soon found themselves standing together at the front of the box room, the small door holding it closed.

“It’s...it’s calling my name,” Keith murmured, gasping a little. He reached his hand to the small brass doorknob, but Lance saw his eyes through the darkness, they were so glassy and lost. He wasn’t aware of what was happening.

Lance didn’t need to read his thoughts to figure out something bad was going to happen. But before he could do anything, the black ooze slid out through the slats and directly towards them.

He reacted, holding his hand out, twisting it. Time slowed extremely quickly, more quickly than Lance was used to. So this was what seven years of growing up and a few months of straining and training with his boyfriend could do for him.

He saw Keith frozen solid before him, holding a blade out to whatever the hell it was that was coming out from the room. He sucked in a breath as he reached for Keith, wanting to bring him out of the time freeze.

A chill rushed through the room, swallowing him whole. He shuddered visibly. He spiralled around, hoping to face whatever it was that had caused the wind. He started time again, knowing he needed Keith by his side.

Keith reacted quicker than Lance had ever seen him do before, turning on his heel and grabbing Lance’s arm, yanking the taller boy back. He held his knife out at whatever had come out and whatever the wind was, but nothing in the room had changed.

“We should check the room,” Keith stated, holding the knife out along his arm, crossing his arm over his chest in a defensive position. His gaze darted back and forth along the room, as if he was trying to look for whatever was out there.

But it was still too dark to see anything.

The building was dead silent though, other than the whistling of wind and the slight patter of rain from the outside, there was nothing.

Lance nodded and turned back to the smaller room. The door made an ominous creak as he pushed it open. He grimaced, ay dios, did this have to get scarier than it already was?

The walls were covered in a black slime like liquid, but in the centre was a small cage, barely reaching Lance’s waist. The bars were close together, so it was almost impossible to see what was inside.

“What is that?” Keith asked, reaching for Lance and tugging at the back of his shirt. Lance complied, stepping beside Keith as they inspected the cage together.

“It’s calling your name,” Lance murmured, shining his torch at the metal cage again. He noticed there were weird shapes carved into the metal itself. They looked like they were words in a language he definitely didn’t know.

“Yeah…” Keith murmured, pushing Lance further behind him again.

Lance pouted at that, but he was glad for it. He wasn’t very good with the gun he had at the moment. He’d need more practice to return to being the sharpshooter he was known to be all those years ago. Keith seems confident and agile with his knife.

But Lance was there to watch his back. They made a good team after all.

The voice was whispering Keith’s name again, the voice getting louder and louder as they got closer to the box. It sounded rather strange, the voice itself. He wasn’t sure what he could pin the accent down to.

And it was still calling out to Keith like a prayer.

“How do you know that name?” Keith growled, ducking down low so he could try and peer through the closely knit bars.

Lance’s heart started thudding faster and faster as he followed Keith and peered into the cage. He placed his gun back into his waistband, reaching out to place the tip of his finger against the weird writing on the metal.

A small v-shape was carved deeply in the very centre, as if it had been hacked at a few times to make it as deep as possible. He recognised that shape, that weird sign, that sigil…

...but from where?

Heat washed over him, warm and surprisingly soothing, almost as if his emotions were awashed, new and happy and carefree. He had to see what was inside. The whispers raged in their song of Keith’s name, sounding like a rumbling of thunder now, repeating the name again and again.

“Okay, I don’t understand what you’re saying but, I’m here now,” Keith replied, reaching out to touch the box. “How do I get you out?”

Keith saw a small latch hidden somewhat expertly under one of the carvings, it was barely there, almost impossible to see. And it had taken a moment for Lance to realise how Keith had zoned in to it so quickly.

He was talking to the being inside. That meant here was someone inside, a person maybe, or at least something that had thoughts and emotions.

He watched as Keith pressed lightly against the latch and, as if by sheer magic itself, it opened. The metal creaking as it popped open.

Lance peered over Keith’s shoulder to see what was inside. His heart thudding loud in his head. His body coaxing him forward, to look inside.

“Lance! Look out!” Keith cried a warning, breaking Lance from his revere as something heavy slammed against the back of his head.

_Not again…_ he thought to himself as he blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel everyone reading this just going 'what's in the box!' like Brad Pitt from the movie Se7en.
> 
> Wow, I am showing my age. Just tbf, I was too young to watch it when it came out. So like. Go off.  
> Hehehe.


	47. Impure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there's some forwarding into the story now.  
> A little bit of hierarchy and my usual story confusions...
> 
> Oh look...a wild Galran appeared (so sue me, I love Galran Keith)  
> Lance ain't taking anyone's shit.

The room was cold when Lance finally woke up. His head throbbed immensely, making him see sparks and spots under his eyelids. He groaned when he found he couldn’t move.  God not again. It hadn’t been that long ago since he was last tied up to a chair. The thoughts of the last time he had been rushed through him. He just hoped and prayed that another cluster of years hadn’t passed while he was stuck here.

Fuck.

But now, now that he had finally gotten out, gotten to taste beauty and freedom and  _ Keith _ , he was a lot more pissed off than scared. Of course the man, or monster or whatever it was that had tied him to this, surprisingly soft, chair was going to let him have a lick of wonderful before he was captured again.

Shit, he had let his guard down.

Whatever it was that had taken him, he had to get away. He needed to get back to his family, his friends, to _Keith_. The thought of Keith warmed his heart, made him feel giddy. It was an all too familiar and heady feeling.  He loved that stupidly gorgeous man.

But this, he hadn’t even seen or heard whatever it was coming to him. Everything was a blur. But he felt something warm and fuzzy muddle his brain. Whatever that was.  His head felt heavy and throbbed. He didn’t know how long he had been out for this time, just that it was a lot darker now, the rain had stopped and the wind had ceased battering the warehouse.

Another fucking warehouse.  But the lack of light in the warehouse was pretty much the same as it had been when he and Keith first ventured in.

Fuck...where  _ was  _ Keith?  Craning his head to the side, he saw Pidge and Hunk’s’ immobile bodies in the same state he was in, tied tightly to chairs, slowly rousing awake. How had they been captured? What the hell happened? 

Where was Keith?

“Pidge! Hunk!” he called out in a harsh whisper, not knowing if whoever had pounced on them was still around. 

Looking around, he saw they were still indeed in the same warehouse, except that the box in the centre of the room had completely disappeared. Only the pedestal with the weird looking cage stood in the very centre of the room. The walls of the warehouse were the same slimy, garish black, as if whatever had been in the box had come out when they had opened it.

Had it?

“Lance?” Pidge’s voice sounded gruff and strained with pain. Lance couldn’t really tell if she looked the same or if she had any glaring injuries on her, not in the darkness. And with his hands tied to the back of the chair, fingers forced into fists so he was unable to use his ability, he wasn’t able to do much than give them a grunt in confirmation. 

Hunk’s voice sounded worried. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Lance reiterated, trying to tell them what had happened when he and Keith entered the warehouse all the way up to the when he had been jumped by whatever it was. “Do you know where Keith is?”

The two gave negative replies, and Lance growled. He shuffled on his chair, pushing against the ropes tying his wrists. He had to get out of here. He had to find Keith. This was all about him, he was sure of it. When he had first been kidnapped, they had asked about Keith, and now with the person in the cage, he had been calling to Keith.

What was going on? Where was Keith?

Something moved ahead of them, calling all three of their attentions to it. Lance struggled to get his fingers free from the right bonds, hearing the other two do the same. If he could just get his fingers out, then he could stop time and take his time trying to get his hands out of this stupid hold. He could feel his gun in his waistband and sighed in aggravation that he had sought to have Keith have the knife.

“Well hello there, sweethearts,” the person that materialised in front of them stood tall, lanky almost in front of them, in a well pressed suit and long hair tied tight in a ponytail.  He looked human, but not at the same time. It didn't help that his skin was tinged a weird purple, and he had thick pointed ears and slanted eyes, eyes gleamed a yellowing purple, weirdly enough. His entire body screamed ‘misunderstood bad boy’, but for Lance, all he could see was ‘danger’ nothing but sheer, abject danger.

This had to be the asshole who took his Keith away from him.

“Who the hell are you?” Lance asked, letting his gaze run from the shiny shoes, the dark suit, and all the way up to the long white hair.

“You don’t remember me?” The man asked, waving his arms and motioning to himself. “My name is Lotor, sweetie, we met before...oh, but you were unconscious for that. But that’s okay, I have the real prize with me now,”

_Keith. This fucker had him!_ _La madre que te parió!_

“Fucking puta!” He growled, tugging on his ropes. This asshole was fucking around with him, and it was working. "Qué te den por culo! Tell me where Keith is!"

“Ah, ah, ah, be nice,” Lotor replied, blowing lightly against his nails, sharp claw like nails that looked like they could easily rip through their bodies like butter. “You wouldn’t want your lovers' sweet little head to burst,”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Pidge growled, tugging her smaller arms against the chains. They had tied her eyes up, as if they had known she was able to use her abilities with her gaze alone.

“Maybe I should explain,” Lotor said, his oddly calming voice was weirdly nurturing in its own way. “I took your little Keithy because he belongs to my clan. His whore of a mother fell for an _impure_ _man,_ ” -- he grimaced when he said that, Lance growled at him -- “and she ran away from our happy home and had a beautiful baby with that _impure savage_ ,” 

Racist puta madre!

“When you were _indisposed,_ I confronted my lovely Keith,” Lotor continued, making his way along the three tied up, running his claws over Hunk’s shoulders, and almost skipping as he reached Pidge. “But he was so  _ lost.  _ It was like that whore hadn’t told him anything about his birthright, his  _ proper place among the pure, _ ”

His hands turned to fists and he growled intense, low and harshly.

“All he could think about was  _ you,”  _ He stopped in front of Lance, running his claw like fingers along his cheek. “But I can see what he sees in you, you are everything he dreamed of, a perfect little pet for him,”

Lance flinched back at the cold touch, the feel of sharp claws. “Don’t touch me, you puta,”

“Oh, baby boy, you are something else, aren’t you?” Lotor huffed, his thin lips pouting as he stepped back to the pedestal where the cage still stood. He walked around and stood behind the metal cage. His clawed fingers running along the carvings made Lance feel sick to his stomach. “But then again, you did catch the attention of a Galran, enough for him to not listen to me,”

“Galran?” Hunk asked. But Lance spied his arms moving scantily up and down behind him, so slowly that it was barely visible. But Lance knew, he could tell. Hunk must have had a knife at his waistband, he was sawing through the ropes.  If he could move his hands more freely, then he’d be able to help, he’d be able to get to them, and Lance would be able to stop time and they would find Keith and get the fuck out of here.

“Oh honey,” Lotor’s fingers tightened around the edges of the cage, leaning over it to hold it close. "Surely you've heard of us, The Galran Clan. The richest family in the country." he rolled his eyes at their blank looks. "We _own_ you, and I want the boy back, even if he has been tainted,"

Lance didn’t understand the feelings that rushed through him. It was screaming at him to get Lotor away from the cage, away from whatever it was that was inside it. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but it was taking every ounce Lance had to not growl and snap at the man.

“I can’t wait to consume him…” Lotor continued, running his fingers lovingly over the metal of the cage. “I bet he tastes delicious, all that pure power inside him, just waiting to be used, to be abused. You think I could fuck the impurities out of him?”

Lance saw red, growling and trying his hardest to force his fingers free. How dare he, how _dare_ he speak about Keith like that! Lotor was going to fucking die. “¡Vete a la mierda! ¡Maldito gilipollas! No te atrevas a acercarte a mi Keith. Te arrancaré el puto pelo de tu puto cabeza!” 

“Get away from him!” Pidge yelled, struggling herself.

_ Huh? Keith! _ Fuck! Where? Did Pidge figure out where he was?

“Oh no,” Lotor’s smile widened, showing sharp, white teeth. “My secret has been exposed, you spoiled the surprise,”

“It’s Keith!” Pidge cried, shaking her head side to side, as if she were trying to shrug and jostle the blindfold from around her eyes. He could see the fabric has dipped below one of her eyes, allowing her to use her skills to find where Keith was. She could see life forces after all, it was part of her abilities. “He’s in the cage! The dick bag put Keith in the cage!”

What?

Lotor tapped his nails against the cage. “Your delicious boy, spoiled with  _ impurities,  _ he just needs a little bit of TLC, so I’m just  _ cleaning him thoroughly, _ ”

There he went again, running those damn claws across the sigils and carvings on the metal. And Lance understood why he was feeling sick with the way Lotor was touching it. Keith...Keith was in there. He was in there! 

"I wonder if he'll let you fuck him when he's finally pure," Lotor sighed, leaning his cheek against the cage, almost dramatically. "He'll be so much stronger, better, finally mine after all these years,"

“Give him back!” Lance seethed, struggling all the more. He could feel them loosening somewhat, but it wasn’t enough. “You’re going to regret it, when I get out of here, I’m going to kill you,”

“Oh come on now,” Lotor rolled his eyes, leaning on his arms over the cage, on hand still playing with the latch and the markings. Lance felt his blood boil. “You’re all tied up pretty, and my little Keithy is almost all ripe and delicious. He’d going to love hearing you scream,”

“Fuck you, you savage,” Lance narrowed his eyes.

Like lightning, Lotor appeared before him, his sharp fingers jabbing at his chest. Lance flinched and forced his head back, eyes narrow and glaring at the man. But he didn’t scream.

“You got my pure Keithy in your soul, boy. There’s no denying that.” Lotor sniffed, wrinkling his nose once and then took one longer whiff, letting the scents swim in his nose. He moaned loud. “My, my, my, he’s done a right little number on you, hasn’t he. He’s got a little bit of himself running around in there in an attempt to protect you. Oh, he’ll definitely try to rescue you,” He turned his purple eyes directly up into Lance’s own, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. “Can’t you hear his heart screaming for you now?”

Lance grimaced, but kept steady. With Lotor’s attention on him, it would give Hunk more time to try and free himself.

Lotor leaned back, smirking wide, sharp teeth gleaming in the barely there light. “Oh yes, I think he’s almost ready. Enough for my father to finally take him back home,”

Lance narrowed his gaze. Father? He didn't understand what the fuck was happening. But he definitely understood why Krolia had run away from the Galran clan. They were all fucking sadistic dictators. She had found real love, had had Keith and now these dick bags wanted him back? That wasn't going to happen. Over his dead body.

Lotor straddled one knee in the space by Lance’s thigh, his hands held to Lance’s neck, sharp claws pressing against the skin of his throat. “Oh dear, I’ve said too much, but no matter. I’m going to kill you first, when my delicious boy is out. I wonder if his heart will actually break.” 

Lance grimaced, forcing himself as far back as he could.

“Maybe I should rip out your heart,” he grinned maliciously. “A nice little present for Keith returning home,”

There was a heavy rumble, followed by an earthquake under the feet as the cage behind them started to hum, started to move. For everything Lotor had been saying before, he definitely didn’t look confident right now. He looked scared, worried.

“No...no!” He growled, rushing back to the cage and forcing his body over it, trying to stop it from jostling about. “Baby boy, you’re too early to come out!”

There was a sound, like an explosion, followed by a blinding bright light. Lance had to close his eyes against the brightness. But his heart felt overwhelmed with the familiar feeling of relief rushing through him. Blinking open his eyes, he saw Keith standing in front of him, tall and savage in all of his fury, facing Lotor. His blade in his hands. The cage burst open and broken ahead of them.

“Oh!” Lotor stood, clapping a few times. “It’s worked! You look beautiful baby!”

“Keith!” Lance gasped out. “Get out of here!”

Lotor smiled, climbing over the destroyed cage. “Oh yes. My beautiful boy, you’ve come to rescue your little heart.” Lotor’s smile brightened and he settled himself directly in front of Keith. “Tell me sweetie. What happens when I do this?”

He lifted his hands up and the room started shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's to no surprise that I really don't like Lotor, I never have, and I never will. So I'm sorry for those who do, but my fic, my rules.
> 
> **Translations**
> 
> "La madre que te parió!" / "puta madre" - Motherfucker  
> "Puta" - son of a bitch  
> "Qué te den por culo!" - Go fuck yourself  
> "¡Vete a la mierda! ¡Maldito gilipollas! No te atrevas a acercarte a mi Keith. Te arrancaré el puto pelo de tu puto  
> cabeza." - "Fuck off! You fucking asshole! Don't you dare go near my Keith. I'll rip the fucking hair off your fucking head!"


	48. Pure

Lance’s eyes widened.

He couldn’t look away. He could distinctly hear the others calling for him, for Keith, the sounds of them struggling to rip the rest of the frayed bind around their wrists. But Lance’s eyes remained on the scene before him. Keith stood stock still, unable to move as the…whatever it was, because that Loreal advert that was a purple skinned man did…something. He stood directly in front of Keith, his hand was flat on Keith’s chest.

Keith’s eyes widened, “You—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Lotor interrupted, his fingers clenching his shirt, dragging him just a little bit closer. An oddly bright coloured smoke erupted from his fingertips and seeped into Keith’s skin. “Now, we don’t want your boyfriend to get hurt now do we, sweet boy,”

Keith growled, jaw tightly pressed together as he tried to not anger the man anymore. Lance was sure Lotor had ulterior motives, he was sure Keith could read his mind and see what was going through it. But why wasn’t Keith telling him? Why was he staying silent? Why was he not letting them help him!

_‘No! Don’t you dare hurt him again!’_

Lotor’s fingers ripped through Keith’s flesh like a hot knife cutting through butter, yet Keith didn’t speak, he barely moved. But Lance could see him quiver, could feel the very earth beneath them shudder. Why...why wasn't he fighting back?

“Get away from him!” He snapped, yanking his hands out, finally free from his confines. He stood up, reaching around to reach the gun on his belt. But Keith shook his head, hoping Lance would be able to understand.

_‘Don’t move. Don’t do anything. Don’t let him hurt you too, aien, please. Let me…let me handle this, for you. I am fine.’_

Lance looked crestfallen, but nodded. He stood valiantly, ready to strike if need be. He rushed over to the others, noticing Lotor was too drunk on his power trip of ripping through Keith’s body. His last effort to turn and protect the love of his life was silenced by Keith’s pleading. He tugged at Pidge’s broken binds, and quickly moved to Hunk, forcing the ropes to budge.

“Dude!” Hunk yelled, snapping out of the loosened ropes. Lance looked back to what Hunk was looking at, and saw…well, he wasn’t sure what he saw. But Keith wasn’t standing any longer. His back was bowed and he looked like he was in so much pain.

Lance didn’t think. He didn’t care. He stood and rushed over towards Keith, gun poised and aimed for the asshole who was hurting his love. The gunshot was deafened by the sudden rush of air whipping around them, followed by a roar of thunder. He wasn’t sure where the bullet had hit, but he braced himself against the rush of air, feeling his feet falter. He was shoved back, slamming hard into Pidge and Hunk. The three of them fell to the ground in a heap. Something hard and heavy fell on top of them, an unseen force that kept them to the ground.

Lance tried, he struggled and moved, but it was all in vain. His fingers did nothing to stop the air around them, did nothing but slow time down a fraction. It was slow…too slow. He couldn’t turn back time until it had completely stopped.

It was too late.

The rush of air and the heavy sound of thunder was swallowed by Keith’s heart wrenching screams of pain. The sonorously sickening sound rattled in Lance’s head, shaking him to the very core. He struggled, forcing his very being into stopping time, into doing something, anything. But the force on his body was heavy, unseen and unyielding. He was well and truly stuck, again.

When Lance didn’t think he could take it anymore, it stopped abruptly. But the whimpers that resumed, oh god. They ripped the heart right out of him. Keith was in pain and they couldn’t do anything to help.

“Keith!” He cried, finding his voice, breaking at the sight of the wind picking up the soot and dirt on the ground, encompassing the air around them in a misty dirty fog.

“Almost there, my baby brother,” Lotor sounded gleeful. Lance wanted to rip that asshole to shreds. “You’re almost there,”

What the hell? Move, god damn it. Do something. He moved his hands again, closing his eyes and focusing as much as he was able to. He had to do something, he had to stop time faster. He had to…he started to see stars behind his eyelids. His focus only on Keith’s fear filled grey eyes that had looked at him, one last time.

Whatever this man was, he wasn’t going to go down easy. And Keith…Lance wasn’t sure if Keith would be able to take him on like this. He had seen the nails dig into his chest and stomach, he could smell the heavy tinge of blood in the dirt filled air. Fuck. He was doing it again. Not able to do anything but sit there while…while someone else sacrificed themselves for him. Why hadn’t he been stronger? Why hadn’t he been smarter? Why did it have to come to this?

How could he do this to Keith? He desperately wanted to show him what he truly deserved, love and care. Keith deserved all the love and care in the world. He was so important, he was such a massive part of his life. He was so much more than…than a boyfriend, than a lover. He wanted Keith to know…

No! No! Nothing was going to happen to Keith, not as long as Lance had a breath left in his body.

Lotor’s laugh made him grimace. He wanted so badly to kill the man. He felt the man come closer to them, felt the heat of Lotor’s breath against his face. Lance opened his eyes and saw Lotor’s face by him, his smile wide and toothy.

“Don’t you want to see my baby brother, his ears are fully perfect now, and his tail? Awww, isn’t it adorable?” His voice was acrid when he spoke. Lance focused, on him, trying to figure out what he fuck he was saying. Lotor’s fingers clenched at the back of his head and yanked him up and away from the others. “Look, this is the true potential of your… _boyfriend…_ isn’t he delicious?”

Lance growled, trying to move, but stilled by that force against his body. It kept him still, pliant, as Lotor moved him around like a rag doll. He looked to where Lotor was forcing him, and he saw Keith on the ground, curled in on himself, a weird purpling syrup covering his entire body, darkening his skin and hair. He held a hand to his head, hiding his face away.

Lance could hear his whimpers, they were so loud in his head.

“This won’t do at all,” Lotor pouted, he raised a hand and lifted his finger upwards. Keith’s body contorted in front of them, unfurling forcefully until he was standing up right, back bowed in pain, arms yanked to either side, head forced up.

_‘No, no, no. Don’t look at me, don’t…please,’_

Lance couldn’t help but fall into temptation. “K-Keith?”

Keith was large, he noticed, larger than normal. He was forced to stand before them, his face looming, skin a dark purple, darker purple markings along his cheeks and under his eyes. His eyes were wide, filled with fear and pain, _yellow_ sclera and purple slitted pupils, like a cats, they widened and contracted in his pain. His chest was barrelled, his limbs long, and his fingers spread wide, claws at each fingertips. And the tail. A long appendage that thinned to a tapered bulb at the end.

“You—you’re…”

Tears were forming in his eyes as he tried to force his body away, his thoughts rushing with morbid thoughts. Wanting to hide away from the world. God, he looked absolutely beautiful. And extremely terrifying.

“Oh.” Lotor seemed disappointed, letting go of Lance’s head. “Well, I guess your bond really does run deep,”

Lance reached for the blade pressed to his back, feeling Pidge’s hands brush against his own. He swivelled around, breaking out of Lotor’s grip and slammed the blade hilt-deep into him. Lotor gasped, looking down to the knife sticking out of his chest,

"Ouch!” he whined, his teeth gleaming and he disappeared into dust. The knife clattering to the ground where it had been embedded in him. Fuck. That was there only lead.

“K-Keith? You-you okay there sweetheart?” Lance tried, reaching down to Keith’s crestfallen body, hands cupping around his purple face. Keith leaned up a little, his eyes quivering as he tried to hold back tears and nodded. “Can you—are you…are you hurt?”

Keith looked away, whimpering in fear and pain. Lance knew that sound, it didn’t matter what weird form his estrella was in, this was Keith, scared.

“What the fuck did they do to you?” He whispered, wanting to know. He heard Keith whimper low, the only sound he let himself make, knowing if he tried to speak, he’d cry. Fuck, he must be in so much pain.

There was so much blood. Lance reached down and held Keith’s head in his hands.

“Oh my beautiful estrella,” He forced Keith to look at him, “I know you’re scared, and in pain, please…let me…let me… _fuck,_ we gotta stop the bleeding,”

Keith whimpered, eyes shining brightly with unshed tears. Lance shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around Keith’s trembling body, pulling the hood up and over his pretty face and cat like ears. Fuck, he was…what the fuck had they done to him?

“Come on, baby,” Lance said, ushering Keith to the entrance of the warehouse.

They reached the car, and Lance carefully lay his injured love in the back seat. Keith was crooning like a kitten, holding his hands to his chest and stomach. Lance settled next to him on the leather of the backseat and placed Keith on his lap, pressing his jacket to Keith’s wounds. He noticed the blood had stopped seeping out from the gash, thankfully. But he was far from healthy. Keith’s face was sullent, almost sunken.

His purple skin was…

“God damn it, we need to go to…fuck, we can’t go to the hospital.” Pidge cried, sitting in the front passengers seat.

Keith coughed and turned his head into Lance’s neck, burrowing into his warmth. Lance stiffened, but quickly relaxed when he felt Keith’s ragged breathing slow. He was going to cry. Shit. What the fuck was happening to Keith? He instead focused on Hunk turning on the ignition. The car roared to life and soon they were back on their way home.

Fuck…was Keith going to die?

No! Never, Lance wouldn’t allow it. They had been through so much together. The very thought that Keith would… No. Damn it, if Keith didn’t survive this, Lance was going to make it his final mission to find him and bring him back. No matter what the consequences. They just needed to get back to the house and find something to help Keith. They’d…they’d research, or they’d call on…someone.

“You’re gonna be alright, you hear me?” Lance murmured, running his fingers through Keith’s hair, hoping to sooth him. Keith was making a low mewling sound, like a baby kitten, though his body shook and shuddered in pain.

Keith let out a low cough, calling Lance’s attention. “La-Lance…”

“I’m here, baby,” Lance murmured, running his fingers through his loves sweat-matted hair. “I’ve got you, gorgeous, I’ve got you. You’re gonna be just fine, we’re gonna get you back to the motel, and we’re gonna fix you right up, then we’re gonna take a nice, long nap together. You like that?”

Keith nodded his head, his purple skin a lot colder now.

Though the motel was only minutes away, it felt like years for Lance. As soon as Hunk parked, Lance lifted Keith carefully out of the car and rushed into their room. Once inside, he laid Keith on the bed, and made quick work of the wound. Keith winced as Lance applied the ointment over the reddened, splotchy skin.

“I got you, mi vida, I’m right here,” Lance murmured repetitively, like a chant, as he worked on cleaning up and closing the rest of the wound. Once it was finished, he changed Keith out of his shirt and into a new, clean one. Keith winced in pain as he lifted his arms up for the shirt. Lance methodically slipped his arms through the holes, and lay Keith down.

Taking a quick glance at the other side of the room, between the slightly ajar bedroom door, he saw Hunk and Pidge tell Shiro what had happened. Lance just hoped they didn’t need him urgently for the next few hours. He’d do anything to help his them, but right now Keith was priority.

“L-Lance…I—”

Lance shook his head. “No, I…I don’t care what you look like. Te amo, te amo mucho, I will always love you, purple cat or not. You hear me?”

Keith nodded, making slight grabbing motions with his fingers, his face turned away from Lance. But Lance nodded, putting the medical equipment away and lay Keith back on the bed, shucking off his jeans, as well as his own, and lay him on his lap. Keith settled in his lap, finding a position that didn’t agitate his healing wound and gazed up into Lance. Those pretty yellow eyes were…a sight to see. But this was now that Lance finally let out a breath. Keith was safe, he was where he was supposed to be, in Lance’s arms.

Killing Lotor was not satisfying enough. He was going to destroy the asshole that did this to his estrella.

Lance would make sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I simp Galran Keith so hard.


	49. Bandage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly do not really remember the actual canon lore of Voltron anymore, and I am sorry.  
> But hey, au...right? Eheh...

The sudden scream from the bathroom alerted Lance.

He gathered all the medical supplies he had purchased and found around the house in his hands, ignoring the few bandages that fell onto the ground with a quiet thump. He rushed out of the kitchen and rushed to the bathroom down the hall. He almost slipped on the wooden floors, but he knocked on the door.

“Keith? Mi amor?” He called into the room, he could hear the showers spraying on the tile and glass, not on a body. “You okay baby?”

When there wasn’t a sound in reply, Lance got more worried. He jostled the doorknob and saw that it wasn’t locked. He opened the door and was met with a steamy and hot room, sweat beading quickly on his cool body. He stepped into the bathroom, unable to really see anything under the steam. The three shower heads that Keith had splurged on getting all those years ago, were turned on full whack, and to its hottest setting, pouring hot water against the tiles, making the room all the more misty.

Though the bathroom itself wasn’t that large in size, it still looked eerie. Lance steeled his breath and made his way deeper inside.

“Keith?” he called out.

He heard a scuffle at the other end of the room, followed by something being murmured into the air in a language Lance didn’t know, but he was sure it was Korean. Determination etched on him now, he made his way over to his boyfriend, wincing low when he banged his shin on the low bench by the side of the room. He dropped the bandages and other medical supplies onto the bench, noticing his hoodie, the one he had given Keith when they had gotten back to the house to cover his pretty, but bruised, face wasn't there where he had left it, when he helped Keith into the shower. 

Fear gripped at his chest, choking him.

Ay dios.

“Keith?” he called out again, and that was when he finally saw his beautiful lover. Keith was huddled against the corner of the shower itself, his feet slipping against the tiles as he tried to push himself deeper into the corner, as if he were trying to make himself smaller. His hands were digging and tugging at the bandages on his arms, pulled at the wet and sticky heap of material and his fur on his skin. His other hand was holding onto Lance’s hoodie, pressing the material against his chest and over his head.

Lance gasped, his constant tugging had dug into his skin, there was a small pool of blood swirling from his own made injuries and into the drain a few feet away. He reached out, but Keith growled something in Korean again. He really wished he had spent some time trying to learn his boyfriends language, not that he really had the chance to. But if it could do anything to help Keith out right now.

Instead, he crouched down low, holding his hand out, palm up, to Keith. He murmured quietly, just loud enough to be heard of the white noise of the shower. “Hey there, mi estrella,”

He spun his fingers in a small gesture and the world around them slowed to a full stop. The water droplets stilled in the air, the mist like a photograph as it stopped on its tracks. He took a few, slow steps closer to his love, not really understanding what was going through Keith’s mind. He really wished he had Keith’s mind reading abilities at that moment.

But he could take a guess. After all, they had just come back from what-fucking-ever had happened to him when he had been taken away. He had screamed so loud, so painfully, it was still ringing in Lance’s ears. And then when Lotor had done, whatever it was that he had done, and Keith had changed into this purple…cat person thing, he could only imagine how much stress Keith was going through.

“ _Tteol-eojyeo! Gakkai ojima!_ ” Keith sucked in a breath, huddling himself closer to the tiled wall. His fingers grasping at the welts he was creating with his slick with blood claws. “ _Neol dachigehago sipji anh-a,”_

Damn it, if Lance could just get close enough to Keith. He just needed to touch him, to hold him close and tell him that everything would be okay. His pretty all yellow eyes were submersed in unshed tears, face marred in pain as he dragged his claws over his furry skin. He looked so beautiful, but so sad. He just needed to get closer to him.

The sickening pool of blood grew on the ground underneath him, much too solid now that there was no water to rinse it away.

“Keith! Stop!” Lance yelled, startling the purple man. Forgetting the need to be calm and careful around his skittish lover, Lance made his way across the small space between them and dragged Keith’s naked and wet body up into a fierce hug.

Keith squirmed in his lap, pressing his covered head against Lance’s chest, grasping at his shirt, wanting to push him away, but hold him close at the same time. Everything was so confusing for the both of them right now. Though this crude transformation in Keith didn’t change anything for Lance, it did change a lot for Keith. Lance just hoped, and wished, that Keith could see that.

He didn’t even want to think about the whole ‘Galra clan’ and ‘pure blood’ crap Lotor had been spewing about Keith. Not right now, not when his little Keith was scared.

Lance yelped, feeling Keith’s slickened claws drag against his skin, but as soon as Keith heard the heavy thud-thud-thud of his heartbeat against his cat like ears, he seemed to calm down at a rapid pace. Sniffling and breathing heavily, they sat there for a few long minutes.

“I’m a freak,” Keith muttered silently, tears still streaming from his pretty, yellow eyes. His gaze darted back to his bloodied arms, the purple skin and fur, the claws, the _tail_ that looped around them _._ “A monster,”

“No!” Lance yelled, holding him closer, crushing Keith’s body into his embrace, wishing he could just take all of the pain away. “You’re not a monster, you’re a wonderful, kind, caring, fucking _beautiful_ man _._ The asshole who did this to you, he’s the real monster, _”_

He wouldn’t believe it, not for a second. Keith was still Keith, with the way he was literally in pain with his new look showed just how humane he really was. He wasn’t a monster. And Lance would do anything to make Keith sure of that fact. He ran his fingers through Keith’s damp hair, careful of the sensitive ears, watching as they twitched this way and that, as if listening to his hands, his heart, his breathing. The tears were still falling, but they had lessened somewhat.

He really couldn’t imagine just what was going through Keith’s head, having lost the identity he knew so quickly. Having to now look in the mirror and see something that wasn’t him, but was at the same time. He had once had his hair cut really short by accident at the hairdressers and he had despised looking at himself in the mirror until his hair had grown back. But he hadn’t really had a chance to explore anything like that, when he had been younger he had wished he had been a little fairer, like all the other white friends he had had, or that he’d one day get a piercing or something. But he hadn’t really had the chance to do that.

And those weren’t exactly such big changes, not like the one Keith was currently going through. There was no hairdresser for Keith to go to, or a hospital or anything. They were stuck here, with Keith looking like this, until they either found a way to turn him back, or if that wasn’t the case — which wasn’t a problem for Lance per say, but this wasn’t about him after all — having Keith learn to live with his new body.

“It’s okay,” Lance murmured into Keith’s hair, rocking him back and forth. “You’re fine, _mi amor_ , you’re safe,”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Keith’s golden yellow eyes, darkened with tears, peered up at Lance, his voice was hoarse and grated when he spoke; “ _Aien_?”

“Hey there, _mi estrella_ ,” Lance said slowly, smiling down at his lover. His poor Keith. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll do everything I can to make it better,”

With that, Lance lifted Keith’s — surprisingly much lighter — body up in his arms. Keith yowled a little like a cat, latching onto Lance, wrapping his arms around Lance’s neck. They made their way over to the bench, where Lance had left the bandages. He sat Keith down on the dampened, warm wood, and made quick work of drying and bandaging his new wounds up.

He was affected by Keith’s gorgeously toned body, and had stupidly taken a glance down to the rest of him, but this was not the time to be thinking about that. Keith was trusting him here, at his most vulnerable, for Lance to take care of him, to love him, to show him that he wasn’t scary, or a freak.

Whoever put those dumb ass thoughts in his head was going to get another thing coming for them. He wrapped the slightly damp bandages around Keith’s toned bicep, spraying at wound with some antiseptic before he did so. Keith had winced, pressing his forehead into Lance’s shoulder. Lance cooed at him, wrapping the bandages over the bloodied skin and tying it up.

He worked on the other arm, and looked for any other wounds Keith might have inflicted on himself. But other than a darkened raw part and his chest and stomach, from where he had most likely trying to do the same thing as he had done to his arms, and the previous wounds he already had, he looked okay. Lance got to work on unwrapping the sodden bandages from the previous wounds and rewrapping them in new, clean bandages. He noticed, many of the previous wounds were healing up, a little faster than what he would think was realistic, but if this new body made for better healing, then Lance was all for it.

There wasn’t much he could do at the moment, thankful that he had at least bandaged up what he could. He carefully took Keith’s hands, feeling the way Keith jolted in his embrace. He tried to yank his hand away, but Lance held onto his wrist, holding his hand up and close. He reached for one of the towels that had fallen to the ground, after he had hit the bench, and turned the sink tap next to him. He wetted the towel with warm water, and slowly, ever so carefully, cleaned up the blood from Keith’s hand and claws. They were sharp, he noted, and caked with blood and fur and a little of his flesh, but none of that deterred Lance. All he saw was his Keith’s hand, and not whatever was running through Keith’s mind at that moment. He pressed the soaked towel at his palm, swiping it up his finger, careful to cover all of it and wipe away as much of the blood and sweat on his hands, buffing a little back and forth at the long claw to the tip, before moving to the next finger and doing the same.

He let out a breath,trying to keep it together and work steadily. He was scared too, not _of_ Keith, but definitely _for_ him. He had done some serious damage to his body in mere moments. Lance made sure to give Keith’s hands as much attention as he could, before he moved onto the rest of him. He was careful to run ointment on the rash like scratch marks Keith had created on his chest and stomach, drying the slight blood there with a separate, dry towel, and applied the antiseptic ointment where it looked the worst.

It was heartbreaking to see Keith look so lost, so sad.

“L-Lance?” Keith asked, tilting his head to one side. “Yo-you don’t have to…you…I…you can…leave…I understand if you don’t want—”

Lance shook his head, stopping Keith from stuttering any further. “Don’t. You…you have no right to tell me what I want. I'm not going anywhere because I love you, not because I...like...feel sorry or guilty for you, I love you, and I want you, even now. You're just...a little more purple and that's perfectly fine.”

Keith looked away, his now clean fingers splayed over his stomach as Lance aired out the pyjamas he had brought to change into after his shower. Lance didn’t let Keith get too far away from him as he helped him get dressed. He noticed the sleeves were a little shorter, and that his shirt was a little bit tighter too.

“You doing okay now?” Lance asked as he straightened out Keith’s shirt. He noticed Keith hadn’t moved his hands away from his stomach, as if he were trying to protect himself from the outside world. Keith nodded his head, letting out a loud yawn.

Even though Lance noticed the fangs on his top and bottom incisors, he couldn’t help but melt at how adorable Keith was acting right now. His amor was so tired. Rubbing the towel over Keith’s dark hair, careful of those ears, Lance threw the towel in the hamper at the other end of the bathroom and picked up his now dry and bandaged boyfriend up. They made their way out of the shower and saw Shiro at the kitchen.

Keith let out another yawn and lay his head on Lance’s shoulder, rubbing his forehead against Lance’s neck, one of his ears twisting sleepily against Lance’s cheek. God, they were so soft.

Lance would tell Shiro what had just transpired in the bathroom once he had laid Keith down for a nap. He definitely deserved to rest well after what they had been through. Stepping into his room, he placed Keith onto the bed. Keith’s head rested against the pillow and his eyes drooped in his tiredness.

“Not yet, _mi amor_ ,” Lance stated, lifting him up again. He had already gotten out the hairdryer and a brush and other skincare essentials for Keith to use. But now that Keith was barely awake, it seemed Lance would be the one to do so. He didn’t mind it, not at all. He'd do anything to get his hands on Keith, and it was the same now.

Keith looked up at him, eyes half closed as he watched Lance move around his room, like he belonged there. It was a damn good sight to see. The sound of the hairdryer made him jump. Lance’s heart melted again, he just looked so god damn adorable. He took the brush and the hairdryer and sat down behind his sleepy boyfriend. He brushed carefully through Keith’s hair, letting the heat of the hairdryer blow over the damp hair. Keith’s head fell forward, pressed up against his chest. Lance grinned, knowing just how nice it felt when his mami played with his hair when he was younger. He could only imagine how nice this must feel for his sensitive love. He paid full attention to the way those ears seemed to flatten a little, shivering and mellow.

Moments of solace passed, Lance had put away the hairdryer a few moments before, deeming Keith’s hair dry and fluffy and soft. They had moved a little more as Lance worked on his hair. Keith had pressed his entire front into Lance, wrapping his legs and arms around the slightly shorter man. His head was pressed up into the curve of Lance’s neck and shoulders, and his breathing had evened out a little in his calm.

Lance was glad that Keith was relaxing here, in this weirdly comforting bonding time they were having. The sound of the teeth of the brush threading through Keith’s long hair was like a serene white noise. He felt himself hold back a yawn.

It was as if the entire world around them had stopped, without any help from Lance’s abilities.

This was Keith. He thought to himself. He had said it a few times before, mostly to psych himself up to the abrupt change with Keith. He had been so scared for his love, so worried that Keith would close in on himself, ‘go dark side’ as Pidge had worriedly told him before they had left for the night. But this, right here, right now. He was sure, Keith was exactly the same as he always had been. Just a little more scared, sure, but that wasn’t a surprise.

Keith was his, god damn it. His to care for, his to protect, his to keep. Sure he himself wasn’t perfect, neither was Keith, now that he thought about it realistically. But Keith was perfect for him, and he was sure that he would do anything he could to keep Keith like this, calm, safe, happy and warm. It was so easy to love this man. And Lance knew, if he ever had this chance again, through a thousand lifetimes, across a million stars and galaxies and universes. He would do it again in a heartbeat. He’d never leave Keith. Never. He was truly and utterly in love with Keith.

And that scared him.

Because now they had something big to worry about. This…Galra thing. What if…what if they had done something to him while Lance had been away? They had been able to change his entire appearance in a short while, what else could they have done to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like someone to brush my hair, please.  
> Though a dumbass hairdresser had cut my hair soooo short, like above my ears, when I had asked her to trim. So there isn't much hair to brush. But...yeah. Mirrors are not my friends either.
> 
> **Translations**
> 
> 'Tteol-eojyeo! Gakkai ojima!' - 'Stay back! Don't come close!'
> 
> 'Neol dachigehago sipji anh-a' - 'I don't want to hurt you'


	50. Chapter 50

I don't usually do this.

And I really didn't want to, or expect to.

To all of you lovely people who read any of my fics. I'm sorry I've not been updating as much as usual lately.

Unfortunately I've been hit with some extremely bad news over the past few weeks, one which has caused me physical problems as well as mental.

My usual livelihood had been disrupted and put into a standstill pretty much. My tumour has revolted and is seething for revenge, and my body and joints etc are paying the price. Writing and doing any form of art is either extremely slow, or extremely painful.

I wanted to continue but I just can't keep up with it. Updates are going to go on pause for now. So, I am so very sorry. I will return as soon as I can with more for you lovely readers. I just need some time to rest and recuperate.

I love you all, so dearly.

Thank you for your support, and kudos and comments and we'll wishes and everything in between.

I am so sorry guys! I'll be back as soon as possible.


	51. Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my beautiful dearies!  
> She is...well, she's somewhat back.
> 
> I'm still recuperating, my hands still ache and are a right bitch at the best of times, also physical therapy sucks so much. I have learned that there are many muscles in my hand, wrist and arm that hurt in a way that makes me dizzy. It's...definitely an educational thing.
> 
> Cramps as well, oh my goodness. The cramps in my palms and fingers, make me look like an old withered witch beckoning little children into my house made of sweets and cake.
> 
> However, I am doing okay. I'm doing my best.
> 
> I could not let this story go. I'm doing my physical therapy, and though I am writing muuuuuuch slower than my usual rate, I am just happy to get something out there for you all.
> 
> I had so many new ideas for out precious babies while I was bored and stuck in the hospital. But I am going to do my best to finish my unfinished ones before I start any new ones. I owe it to all of you. (maybe a few oneshots here any there)
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your well wishes and sweet comments, I will reply to them as soon as I can. I am so sorry its so slow, but I will do my best.
> 
> So, here's the chapter my loves.

**“You’re even more of a freak now than you were before,”**

Oh god.

**“Evil, alien, sick, sick, sick freak!”**

Oh god no. Not again.

**“Everyone is going to look at you and leave you,”**

He didn’t think he could take this anymore.

**“He’s going to leave you,”**

Blood. It was everywhere. The four walls around him were covered with its slippery, slimy shine, like waterfalls of red surging to the ground and pooling at his feet. His head was screaming at him, coursing through his entire body as it pointed out every single bad thing about him. Every quip, every flaw, every single thing that made him hate himself.

He stood there, still, forced to listen. He had tried to move his arms, his legs, hell anything. But nothing was working. He was truly stuck. It felt like there was something thick and heavy on his body, crushing him, holding him in place, keeping him there like an invisible weight as he was forced to listen to the torture screaming around him.

**“Why would he want a freak like you? You’re a monster.”**

No, he had to keep hope. Lance had said he loved him even like this. Even when he was a monster. He focused instead on that, on the way Lance laughed, smiled, the way he spoke, the way he felt in his arms. Lance loved him, Lance was here, he was going to stay with him. They were going to be together, forever. He was god damn sure of it. He had to be.

**“He’s going to leave you, hell, I'm surprised he hasn’t already. It doesn't matter how long it'll take. They are all going to leave you. Your family. They are going to leave you because you’re a monster, a freak!”**

No. No. Shut up! They weren't going to leave him. They were still here. He was still here. He hadn’t left. They had fallen asleep together. He had heard his tou-san and abu as well. He knew his family and his friends were in the house before he had fallen asleep. He was in Lance's arms, he was safe. Lance wouldn't leave him. They...they were still here. Right?

Right?

The silence was painful, the weight on him feeling like shackles and wires holding him down and tormenting his mind, leaving him a shell of what he once was.

**“You’ve lost everything.”**

Keith woke up with a start, his golden yellow eyes wide with fear, sweat shining across his forehead as he tried to push back the voice in his dream, the complete darkness, the excruciating pain. The blood. He wanted so badly to forget the dream, to forget the voice, to forget everything that had happened to him. Forget everything that was happening to him. He just wanted to go back to being the way he was. When he was with his family, with his love, when he was with his friends, being cared for. He wanted to be Keith.

But he had seen the way his abu had flinched when he had caught sight of him, his thoughts going a mile a minute, so fast that Keith couldn't keep up. The way Pidge had held back a screech, wondering just what had happened. The way Shiro had sucked in a harsh breath when he had seen him, his thoughts quiet. He knew that wasn’t going to happen. He was stuck like this now, a monster with no way to help himself. Oh god, what if the demon was right. What if they were all going to leave him? He was a freak, a monster.

He felt an arm tighten around his waist, looking up he saw a sleeping Lance pulling him closer, caring for him, comforting him as he slept. He had Lance, he had his aein. Lance was looking after him, Lance wasn’t scared of him, even though, deep down, Keith knew he should be. God, he had fangs and claws, sharp things that shouldn’t be anywhere near his aein’s beautiful skin. What if he hurt him? What if...oh god. He didn’t want to think about what might happen.

He had seen Lance looking, heard his thoughts as he watched him. Lance had taken every little change in him into account, every sharp point, furred edge down to the tip of his tail. He had been methodical when he had bandaged his wounds, he had been so careful, it had made Keith's heart swell. But his mind had been a fuzzy mess of Spanish words, sounding worried and scared.

Scared...of him?

So why? Why was Lance still here? Why was he still helping him?

He didn’t know, but he was just grateful he had it now. He reached for Lance then, hesitating a little when he saw his claws. He’d have to file them down, or cut them off or something. He buried himself further into Lance, just...he needed this for now. Especially after that dream. Lance was so very warm, and smelled so amazing, like sea salt and electricity, like petrichor and something so uniquely Lance. It was a sweet mix, and it fit him well. It fit everything that made Lance who he was. Keith buried his nose in Lance’s chest and just breathed in, trying to memorise the scent.

Lance mumbled something in his sleep, making Keith smile. He couldn’t help but stare at him. Stare at his frazzled hair, messed by sleep, his long eyelashes that looked like they were kissing the apples of his cheeks. His lips were in a pout, mouth partly open, breathing slowly. He was so beautiful, both inside and out. The feel of him sang to Keith, made him want to wrap around him and just hold him close, keep him safe.

Not much good that was now, what with him being so...pointy and sharp.

He carefully reached forward, laying his hand on Lance’s chest, spreading his fingers wide and feeling the heavy thudding on his heart beating. It was perfect, it was soothing, and it made every single fear Keith had within him disappear. He thought he could do anything as long as Lance was with him.

Lance’s nose wrinkled cutely in his sleep, and he dragged Keith even closer to him. His arm; a protective band around him, keeping him safe. Keith wanted to soak in his warmth, wanted to take his soul, hide it from others and make sure nothing would taint it, nothing would touch its purity.

That asshole Lotor had been a monster, wreaking havoc. But Keith had learned about him, learned about whatever it was he had been spouting to them. Though none of it made sense to him -- he had never been part of the Galran clan, why that asshole thought he was his younger brother, Keith wasn’t sure. But he knew they were up against someone who was really strong.

He just wished he had listened in on him more. But it was hard to do so with his body being torn to shreds and turned into this...urgh.

He needed to protect Lance, and his family. No matter what the consequences. Because Lotor was a bad guy, and his family were even worse. He needed to get stronger, better, faster. He and Lance needed to get stronger together. Their bond had saved him, had saved them both. They needed to work on that -- he wasn’t sure what that entailed, he didn’t know what Lotor had meant about ‘bond’ in the first place. But he was going to work on it, whatever it meant.

They would be able to protect one another.

With that, Keith slowly got up, he hissed at the cold floor under his bare feet. Stretching out, he groaned at the pain that erupted over his aching body, not having been out of bed for that entire day, he felt the aches and kinks strain his back, but his injuries were flaming. So instead of get up and get on with the day, as he had planned. He slowly retreated back to the safety of Lance's arms.

~~

Lance had been up when Keith had gotten up, ready to help him if he needed it. But after watching him try to sit up, stretch and wince, only to lay back down and fall back to sleep in his arms, he thought to let this one slide. He didn't want to spook Keith, neither did he want his lover to shy away from him.

Once Keith had finally fallen asleep, Lance pulled away from his body, laying him down on the warm bed, pulling the covers over his bandaged body. He took in a deep breath. There were so many bruises and cuts over his estrellas purple skin, it had taken him a while to tend to all of them after their shower. But he was happy to see Keith healing.

He ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, feeling the softness in the slightly purple tendrils curl around his fingers, smelling of his shampoo. He looked so peaceful like this, so warm and calm. The purple skin, the fangs, the tail, all of it was so...so _not Keith_. But he was still Keith, he was just...a different skin colour, that was all. He reached down and pressed a kiss to Keith's forehead, feeling his cat like ears swivel a little by his cheek. Grinning, he pressed a kiss to them too, seeing them flick a little, like they had a mind of their own.

They’d need to talk more about this. But he’d have to do that when his estrellas finally woke up from his nap. Because, regardless of whatever was going on in his lovers crazy head, Keith was his. That was it. There was no need to explain the hows and whys, the whats and who's, Keith was his, purple or not. And he was Keith’s.

Keith meant everything to him. Lance _loved_ him. He didn’t think he’d be able to get away from those innocent, trusting grey eyes--no, they were golden and wondrously alien now -- or that deep voice. Or the way Keith would snuggle up against his chest, rubbing his forehead against his shoulder, or the way he’d have that cute, deep, quiet voice when he wanted Lance to do something for him.

He didn’t want to get away.

And now, his estrellas had started purring in the cutest way while he slept, snuggling into the pillow and wrapping his arms around his waist, dragging him sleepily closer. It was this time, in the darkness, when they were alone together, safe and sound, that Lance yearned to lay next to his estrellas, draw his arms around Keith’s waist, sink his fingers into his hair, spoon into his warmth, kiss his shoulder and whisper; “Mine,”

But, right now, his pretty little estrellas needed some sleep. And Lance knew it was damn near impossible to force himself to wake up his sleeping lover. So he stood, taking one last glance at Keith, before leaving his bedroom. He kept the door slightly ajar, letting the hallway light in.

Walking to the kitchen, he saw Hunk washing up some stray dishes. “Is he doing okay?” he asked, placing the last tray on the dryer and reaching for the tea towel to wipe his hands dry.

Lance nodded, stepping into the kitchen. “Sleeping. But I think he’s doing a lot better now.”

The coffee pot bubbled to a boil and dinged as it poured coffee into the glass pot. Shrugging his shoulders, Lance reached for a mug for himself, and for Hunk, he poured coffee and settled on the dining table. Hunk threw the tea towel onto the worktop by the sink, and settled opposite Lance.

“How’re we gonna find who that guy was?” Lance asked, taking a sip of the bitter brew, letting the familiar heat overwhelm his tired body. God, coffee did wonders to the soul.

“Me and Pidge have been looking into it,” Hunk muttered, sipping his own coffee. He placed the cup onto the table and frowned. “We got a clear picture of Lotor from the cameras around the warehouse. Pidge was going through the police face recognition records to see if they could get more info,”

Lance hummed, “Okay, do you need me to do anything?”

“Look after him,” Hunk replied, reaching a hand out to Lance, holding the back of them with his larger hand. “It can’t be easy for him with the whole--” he made a small gesture. “You know. I can't imagine what he's going through,”

“Yeah, it was hard trying to get him to sleep,” Lance murmured, sucking in a harsh breath. He couldn't imagine either. But he had vowed he was going to stay by his estrella's side. Keith deserved so much, and he was getting dealt such a bad hand. Lance just wanted to be there for him. “I just…I don’t know what to do,”

“You...uh, you still love him, yeah?” Hunk said carefully, scratching at the back of his head. “Like, I’d totally understand if you’re getting cold feet or whatever. But like...if you are, I don’t know if it’s best to like...leave now, while he’s still--"

“What? No!” Lance slammed the coffee cup on the table, the contents sloshing out and spilling on the table. “I’m not going to leave him just...just because!-- Hunk! How could you even think that?”

“I’m sorry!” Hunk raised his arms up in his defence. “I just...I just wanted to make sure, I know you care for him deeply. I just...ah hell, I'm really sorry about even thinking that. But you gotta admit, it is a bit...you know, I'd understand if you--you know,”

Lance narrowed his gaze at his best friend for forever, pointing a finger at him, “Let’s just get this straight, I love Keith, purple or not. Hell, I am going to marry that man as soon as we are old enough, so don't you even think that I would be such an idiot to leave the perfect man for me,”

Hunk’s eyes widened, sparkling bright. “You're going to marry him? Oh my god! Oh my god! I need to--we need to plan, we gotta...oh my god! A wedding!”

Lance shook his head, settling back on the table. He knew Hunk only meant well, they were all so stressed and tired from everything that had happened. But the big guy could have had some tact. He wasn't going to just fall out of love with Keith just because he looked a little different. Lance wasn't that shallow. Maybe when he was younger, yeah. But now, after he had seen Keith, spoke to him, fell in love with him. He couldn't even think of anyone else. “We’re still kids, we can’t get married yet. Gotta be an adult for that kind of stuff.”

Hunk raised an eyebrow. “Last I checked, you’re nineteen, an adult,”

Huh. Oh yeah, the seven years he had spent in that awful prison. That...yeah, that meant they were both old enough to--no no, wait. “First, we have to focus on Keith getting better.”

Hunk nodded, reaching out for Lance’s hand again. “I really am sorry, you know, I didn't mean it like that,”

"Water under the bridge," Lance replied, patting his hand. They fell into a short companionable silence, letting the coffee do its work to get them ready for the rest of the day. He could hear movement upstairs and knew that Shiro and his husband Adam were waking up. “You sure you don’t need me for anything now?”

Hunk shook his head. Lance didn’t like not having something to do, but he knew he’d only get in their way if he tried to help. Hopefully they’d be able to find some source of the Galran clan with Pidge’s techno wizardry. Maybe they could find a way to scour the state, or something. There was only so much they could do, but maybe they would get lucky.

Hunk looked to the kitchen, namely the fridge. "I think we can send Shiro to do the grocery shopping, because you and me need to have a long talk," He grinned, laying both hands on the table and leaning forward. "about proposal ideas!"

Hmmm...Hunk had a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me so far.  
> I know it's going to be a long ride for me, but I will do my best to finish what I can before anything worse happens!


	52. Learning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah...yes...  
> So, I have gotten to the point where I seem to have little to no time to actually write. And I feel awful.  
> With my new course, and my part time, and then with my family at home, it seems almost impossible for me to find the time of day to have a moment to sit and write what I want to the extent that I want.  
> I want to give you good content, I want to do right by you, my dear reader.  
> So, I'm sorry if this takes longer than I had initially anticipated, I will do my best.
> 
> We're almost to the end, so hopefully this will be worth the wait.

Lance rubbed his eyes and stretched himself out on the sofa. He looked out of the window to the clear blue skies up above. He savoured these moments where he could be alone with his thoughts, and have no one around to bother him. He could distinctly hear Hunk doing something or another in the kitchen, the sweet scent of something baking had permeated the air in the house and it made his mouth salivate at the thought of whatever he may have concocted in his stress.

Pidge was tinkering almost too silently on the dining table to his left, typing frantically at the keyboard. They had set to trying to find something or another about the Galra clan and their whereabouts, but other than a few social media posts and charity auctions and other basic ‘rich and charitable family’ bias, there wasn’t much else. Pidge was set on finding something or another that she could, but there was only so much she could do with the access she had.

Adam had taken to looking out for Keith, they were currently in a ‘session’ in his room. He could hear the muffled sounds of Adam talking to him. There hadn’t been any yelling or things thrown about – not like the first session when Keith had been adamant that no one see him like this.

Lance couldn’t imagine how Keith must have felt, having his entire world change after such a traumatic event. But he also could tell Keith was not listening to reason. He knew Adam and Shiro and everyone meant well, they were not scared _of_ him, but _for_ him. He was breaking at his bandages, scratching at his scars and causing more injuries while they tried to heal. It had sadly become a ritual for Lance to take care of his previous and new injuries before they settled together for bed. 

Keith seemed to only trust him, which was sweet. However, Lance could see how it was draining on him, how sad and distracted he was becoming. And he could also see how it was impacting everyone else. 

He had to figure out a way to fix this.

He’d have to wait until Shiro was back from grocery shopping, before he could implement any plans. 

It was getting late in the afternoon. The window was slightly open, letting in a breath of fresh air. His short rest was rejuvenating. They had all been through so much in the past few days, it was hard to find time to rest. 

He stood up and made his way to the kitchen, taking in that sweet scent again. Chocolate, it smelled like tempered chocolate. He waved at Hunk as the larger man slid something into the oven. 

“Hey dude,” Hunk replied, pushing the oven door closed. “You okay?”

Lance nodded, reaching for the bowl in the centre of the kitchen table, there was still some of that melted chocolate in it, and he was eager for a taste. He was stopped by Hunk thwapping the back of his hand. 

“I’m not now,” He grunted. “What gives?”

Hunk crossed his arms over his chest. “Save the sweets for after dinner,”

Lance rolled his eyes good naturedly and pouted. He wasn’t sure why, but he was feeling jittery all of a sudden. It was weird. Shaking his head, he instead spied the spoon in the bowl and yanked it while Hunk’s back was turned. Quick to shove it in his mouth, he let out a moan at the taste of the sweet and milky chocolate taste. 

Oh yeah. Keith would like this, for sure. Whatever it was Hunk was making.

“Didn’t Hunk tell you no sweets before dinner?” Adam asked from behind him.

Lance stilled. 

“Really Lance?”

Busted.

He pulled the spoon from his mouth, having licked it clean, and placed it into the sink. He turned abruptly and made his way out the door, bypassing Adam and giving him a cheeky smile.

“I should go check on Keith,”

Adam gave him the permission to, and he grinned, glad he dodged that bullet. And he quickly made his way along the hallway and up the stairs to his bedroom. It was strange how his house was so different now, it never ceased to amaze him how so much could change in just seven years.

Though his family were not here anymore, safe in his uncles’ home, he could still see them in every single thing here. It had pained him before, to know he had lost so many years in such a short time. But he was grateful to be back. He was grateful that his family had kept hope for so long, when others had thought him dead. 

He had Keith to thank for that.

He pushed the door opened and smiled. Right before him, was his estrellas, laying back on the bed, sleeping soundly. Alright, so this wasn’t so much a new thing, but it still caught his breath to see his beautiful love in his bed, with him. 

His heart beat still sped up at the sight. The covers were strewn over his body, he was wearing one of Lance’s shirts, he noticed. Lance’s heart was beating so loud in his chest he felt like the whole world would be able to hear it.

All the quiet longing, the frustration, the loneliness, all of the feelings he had kept within him about their situation, all of it was replaced with his growing relief and gratefulness. Gods, his little kitten looked so peaceful right now. 

The urge to touch him was overpowering all of Lance’s senses. 

They had been through so much in such a short amount of time. Well short for him. He still wasn't sure just what he had done to warrant Keith to wait for him for seven whole years while he was stuck in that god awful prison. They had met abruptly, dated abruptly, and yet.

Keith stayed.

And Lance knew, with all of his heart, that Keith would stay with him forever. He'd do the same for Keith in a heartbeat. He hadn't been lying when he told Hunk he was going to marry this man. Purple or not. 

But he needed Keith to understand that. He needed Keith to know that nothing had changed. They had talked about it before, countless of times Lance had told Keith that he didn't care, that he wasn't scared, that he wasn't going to leave. He could stop time and recite words to him that could last hours and hours, and he knew that Keith could read him, could tell he was being honest.

And yet.

It already ached when Keith would shy away, when before he would reach out. After everything they had been through, after everything they were going through. He didn't expect the magnitude of loneliness he felt not having Keith by his side. Even though he was right there, where Lance could see, could hear, could touch. Ever since they had returned, it was all so different. 

Like he was there, but he wasn't. 

It was like Keith was rejecting Lance, outwardly. Though, inwardly, even Lance could tell he was yearning. He was always incredibly touched by the sheer and utter devotion he saw in Keith’s eyes, he lavished upon that feeling.

Life without Keith by his side would feel akin to torture. It made him weak, made him mad at himself. Did he really deserve such care and affection? Did he deserve such utter love when he himself was so selfish?

Selfish in thinking that Keith was keeping away from him when he had gone through so much himself? Lance cared for Keith, oh did he care for him. He would always love and cherish his estrellas. 

From the first moment he saw his estrellas sitting there on the picnic blanket, surrounded by the sunlight. He had been hooked; he had seen his forever.

Even now, he felt his heart skip a beat as he watched Keith rub the side of his cheek on the soft pillow. A small smile etched on his lips, tired eyes slow to move and lazy to open, only to close again when he saw who was there. Lance watched him, curiously leaning against the ajar door, and smiled. Keith was just as slow to move, stretching out and yawning, opening his golden eyes, widening when he saw Lance watching him.

He immediately sat up on the bed, cheeks red with embarrassment. “L-Lance,” 

After a quick moment assessing him, Keith smiled shyly, and Lance felt a deep sense of warmth coming from him. That smile, it was similar to the ones he'd have on his lips from before. It was meant just for him. 

"Hey, mi vida," 

Lance was first to break the stillness of the room. He felt the need to get as close to Keith as possible. Making his way into the room, he closed the door behind him and reached for Keith. Fingers slowly rising to touch the side of his cheek. The scar there was stark even with his lilac skin, a subtle red from whatever he had gone through while Lance had first been kidnapped.

His gaze turned misty, oh his poor estrllas. He lunged at him, wrapping his arms around the alien man, rubbing a hand along his back in a bout to comfort him. Keith nuzzled at his neck, inhaling his scent. Lance hoped it was a comfort for him.

He closed his eyes, pulling Keith even closer to him. It felt so good to have him in his arms. He was a little larger now, shoulders broader, but he fit perfectly in Lance’s arms. So close, just the two of them. 

There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t find it in himself to ask them now. He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to feel. 

He released Keith from their embrace, holding both of his palms on either side of Keith’s face.

“How’re you feeling?” Keith leaned into his touch, the undeniable desire in his eyes, reciprocating his need to feel, to touch, to hold on. He too wanted to forget what had happened, he too wanted this moment to last, where they didn’t have to think, just feel. 

“I’m...” he paused, breathing in deeply to try and carry the weight of his words as carefully as he could. “I’m better,”

Lance sucked in a breath. Okay, he was better. He was doing better. That was all it took for them to immerse themselves in the heat between them. He fell into Keith, dipping his head down in one smooth motion and capturing Keith’s lips in a kiss.

Keith tried to pull away, a shocked reflex from his inner self conflict. But Lance didn't let him get far, he was soft and gentle, kissing him with a strong streak of possessiveness. His thoughts and feeling positive, his hands and arms warm. He snaked his arms around Keith’s waist, forcing him to arch in, to lean against him as they deepened the kiss. 

_I’m here. I’m yours._

It felt like an age, but warmth built at the bottom of his stomach when Keith leaned in closer. Hesitant, but still there.

Lance kept it slow, kept it innocent, as well as he could. There was no saying who started it first, but they broke away to breathe. Foreheads leaning together, Lance felt like he should say something, do something, to show Keith just how proud he was of his estrellas, how happy he was that Keith was alive, that he was here, that he was in his arms. But before he could, Keith swooped up and claimed his lips.

Fire.

He felt like he was drowning in warm flames, heat that grew and spread through his entire body, originating from Keith’s kiss, his hands, his gaze. Everything about him was pure fire.

The two parted, breathing heavy and staring into each other's eyes. 

“Keith?” Lance panted, closing his eyes and just breathing Keith in. Taking in the familiar scent and wishing he could keep it with him forever. 

Something grew then, something that was different. It started hot, the same fire from his fingertips, but it grew into an inferno, burning Lance. He looked into those golden eyes, purely nothing else but the perfect shining gold. He held it with a passion, lost in the hot sensation again. It made him feel dizzy, a moan escaping in his pleasure.

“Keith?” He asked questioningly. He wasn't afraid of this new feeling, not...not really. He was curious, wanting to know more, to feel more. The reply he got, though he wasn't sure how he got it, was sweet and reassuring. But it was exactly like Lance’s wildest fantasies. He felt like he was out of control.

And he loved it.

“Breathe with me, nae salang,” Keith murmured, leaning a little closer until their lips were barely brushing. “Trust in me,” 

Lance nodded, looking deeply into those eyes. He felt his mind ricochet, bumbling and fumbling with the new feelings, yanking his thoughts this way and that, but with each mesmerising breath came a rush of satisfaction. 

Lance slid his hands through the neck of Keith’s shirt, needing to feel his skin, warm and slightly furred to the touch, feeling the firm muscles underneath. Keith let out a lower, wonderful, rumbling sound, muttering Lance’s name against his lips.

Lance wanted more.

He wanted to tug their clothing off, throw them into a heap and touch him, feel him, to do more. But Keith’s eyes had him rooted to the spot.

_Trust in me._

He trusted Keith with his life, so he sat still on his lap, straddled and pressed close, chests touching, foreheads pressed together, lips barely touching but just breathing in one another. 

Keith moved back. For one agonizing moment, Lance felt lost. But his pain was made up just a moment later when Keith’s clawed fingers pressed a thin line along his neck. Lance gasped, his fingers felt like wet, hot kisses along his skin, the slight scritch of his claws, like his teeth nipping at his flesh.

“What...?”

Keith grinned, tugging at Lance’s shirt and drawing it down. “I...seem to have...picked up a new... _skill?_ I... when you were...and Lotor had...I had been--” he sucked in a breath, “Something... _unlocked_? I don't know how to describe it, just...I feel...I don’t know... _stronger_ , I guess, like I could actually protect you, protect my family." 

Lance bit back a moan when Keith’s hands moved along his collar bone, sparks igniting in his wake. It definitely felt warm and wet, like his mouth was pressed there, kissing his skin.

“Adam has been helping me,” Keith continued. “Not...not like this,” he was quick to add. “But I think I can...control it now, does it...does it feel good?”

Lance moaned, feeling a tongue flick out to taste the hollow of his throat. He tugged at the back of Keith’s shirt, tugging it up, he wanted it off, but his hands were inside the shirt, he couldn’t do anything but clench his hands on Keith’s back, knocking his head back to bare his neck as that feeling tingled, tantalising and slow.

“Fuck yes,” 

Hot and wet trailed down his throat. Keith leaned in then, taking over the sensation at the curve between his shoulder and neck. He felt sharp fangs against his skin, teeth nipping softly a few times before Keith sunk his teeth into Lance’s neck.

Lance gasped, a moan escaping his lips as Keith licked the spot he had just bitten. He cradled Keith’s head, fingers grasping and massaging his scalp. They were still new to this, desire growing and fuelling their need for one another. But they weren't going to let it get to them. 

He looked down into those golden eyes, he could still seek out the vehemence in Keith, the hesitance to keep going. Lance wasn't freaked out with this. Hell, ever since Keith’s hands had ran along his neck and it had felt like kisses, his thoughts had run fast and far with what else they could do with this. _Where_ else they could do this.

Keith’s arms draped low on his waist, fingertips caressing Lance’s hips in an innocently scandalous manner, mouth and tongue running gently over the bitten flesh of Lance’s neck.

He had never felt so loved, so treasured, so utterly possessed, as he did in this man's arms. Keith’s eyes – they were just as intense, if not more now with the pure gold surrounding the lilac – flitted across his features. He took hold of Lance’s hand, kissing the tips of his fingers.

“You okay?” Keith asked, his voice heavy with lust and want.

Lance’s mind was fuzzy, he reached town, fingers travelling to the corners of his mouth, thumbs tugging at his bottom lip. Peeking at the fangs. He leaned down, pressing their mouths together, showing Keith that he didn't care, he wasn't scared. 

He suddenly found himself pulled roughly against Keith's body, mouth plundering like he couldn't get enough. Lance was the same, he knew exactly how Keith felt. He wanted to get closer, as close as possible. He felt hands all over him, fingers twisting and catching against his skin, tangling in his hair, lips pressing all over.

The deeper their kiss became, the more intense the feeling of those hands, those fingers, those mouths on his skin. He ached, feeling safe in his esrellas embrace. No one would ever be able to make him feel this way. To make him want, _need_ , someone as much as he wanted and needed Keith.

Was this why he was feeling so jittery earlier? Why he was craving something sweet? Because there was nothing sweeter than this. Nothing else would make him feel as good, to hold Keith and be held by him, so close. Like he was being possessed. 

His body was ready to surrender itself to Keith, implicitly. The need drove him mad, a much stronger desire surfacing, the need to possess _Keith_ too. To mark him the same way he had been marked. 

Everything was blurring together, their thoughts and feelings mixing and mingling. Heat, like wildfire. All Lance had were his senses. And all of his senses were filled with Keith, Keith, Keith.

"Keith!" 

He felt insane with this need. There was no good or bad, no right or wrong. No names, no worries, no history, no past, no future. Just this, them, right now. He was drunk with this feeling. A sweet ache harsh across his chest. Keith kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him. He was surrounded in it, thousands of hands, thousands of mouths, lips pressing against his body, teeth nipping at his skin, heat blazing trails everywhere.

It was like Keith was learning him, learning his scent, every curve, every hollow, what pleased him, what drove him higher. His hand trailed down Lance’s stomach, above the shirt, but Lance felt it as if he were touching his skin. It made him writhe against it, alive with need, hunger growing instead of being sated.

“We really...really need to talk about what this means,” Lance breathed out, the heat in his stomach moving lower. He shifted, trying to find some kind of from the feelings building up inside him. 

He was happy to continue, happy that his words had been lost in the wind. But Keith abruptly sat up, breathing erratically. He dragged Lance over him, pressing him against the bed. 

"Ke--?" Lance started, but was hushed by Keith’s hand to his mouth. He leaned away, sniffing at the air, like an animal catching a scent. He sat up and growled. 

The doorbell rang, making Lance jump. He heard one of the others downstairs make their way to the door and open it. But he knew something was wrong. Why was Keith acting like this? What had he heard? 

Keith growled, getting up and lifting Lance off the bed, he held Lance behind him, facing the door. “Monsters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuunnn....


	53. Abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little family history.

Kolivan frowned, furrowing his eyebrows as he stared at his daughter. His dark eyes narrowing in aggravation. He hadn’t seen her since she had left the main house, screaming at him about how bad of a father he was for following their clan leaders stupid Aryan style of thinking, taking his car in the process to go see that boy she had been mad about. 

He should have left with her. 

Krolia stood in front of the others, arms crossed over her chest, giving him the same hauntingly angry look, she had given him when she had told him to ‘grow a pair and stop sucking up to Zarkon's ass’. His daughter was a spitfire, that was for sure. He blamed that on his husband, Antok was always the fiery one of the two. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice hard. 

“I am here to see my...you and your husband?” -- he eyed the two taller man behind him, not sure which one was the husband here. His daughter hadn’t married two men, had she? He had heard she had a son – after all, Krolia only spoke with Antok, never him. Did that mean the two other kids in the house were also her children? "And my grandkids?” 

Kolivan shook himself from his confusion, copying her stance and crossing his arms over his chest. It had been over twenty years since he had last heard from his daughter – though he had tried his damnest to find her, but she was a clever one. Again, he blamed Antok for that too. 

The sun was setting in the distance behind him, a cool breeze rustled passed his long-braided ponytail hanging over his shoulder. He wasn’t going to leave until he had something from her, he had to at least tell her that he was no longer with Zarkon and his Galran clan. That he was sorry for not listening to her and causing her to leave.

That he should have left with her. 

Krolia raised her eyebrow. “He is not your grandson, and I am no longer your daughter,. You disowned me, remember?” 

“Can we not do this right now,” Kolivan sighed. He knew he had said a lot of bad things to one another, but he had regretted those words as soon as they had left his mouth. She hadn’t given him a chance to try and apologise, to reconcile their already crumbling relationship. He just prayed he wasn’t too late now. 

A few moments passed with both of them staring down one another. Shiro cleared his throat and broke the two from their intensity. He knew there wasn’t much of a need to listen to their thoughts.

He could tell there was some harsh history there. Her leaving, him letting her go. But he wasn’t going to get into that now.

“Why don’t you come in,” he stated, motioning for Krolia to step aside. Though she was Keith’s real mother, this was his home, he would allow whomever he wanted into it.

Also, he could tell there was something Kolivan wanted to tell them, something related to how Keith was now. Something that should be able to help them figure everything out, or at least try to.

Krolia scoffed but moved to one side. “Fine,”

Kolivan tentatively walked into the house, following Shiro as they made their way into the living room. 

“You are the hus--?"

“Not to Krolia,” Shiro answered, motioning for Kolivan to take a seat on the sofa. Kolivan did so, giving all three of them a look. The two younger children had scurried away into the other room, but he could tell they were peering in through the door, watching them.

“What do you want?” Krolia asked.

Kolivan turned to her, he could see she had grown up so well these past twenty or so years. She still looked as beautiful now as she did when she had first been given to them all those years ago, a little baby wrapping her tiny hands around his finger.

“I’m so sorry I let you go,” he murmured, knowing this was probably the only time his daughter would be civil enough to want to talk to him, or even just look at him. “I know I did such horrible things—especially with you and Lotor—but I just—I want you to know that I am so sorry, Antok and I miss you still so dearly, and we just want...I want you to know...I left the House, and I’m...” 

Krolia scoffed again. “I repeat,” She said, strutting forward and setting herself on the edge of the table. “What the fuck do you want? Because if it’s just an apology, you’re twenty years too late,”

Shiro and Adam stared at one another, and then back at the two. It was too tense for them to even consider trying to change the subject right now, or try to lighten it. Shiro held a hand to Adam’s thigh, stopping him from getting up and getting a drink for them all. He could tell Adam was trying to figure out if he should or not. 

They heard a cat like growl coming from the stairwell, causing the four to turn and see Keith and Lance at the door. Keith’s eyes wide and his thoughts tumultuous. His grip on Lance’s arm was strong. 

"Wh-what?" Kolivan's eyes widened when he saw just what he was looking at. His eyebrows furrowed, why was...who was? He glanced at the purple skin, the wide, cat like ears, the...tail? Oh...oh my god. Had they actually done it?

Lance pulled Keith behind him, not sure what was going on, but knowing that he didn’t want whoever this new person was to make any sudden moves. Keith was already on edge, what with the way he looked. If this man messed even one hair on his head, then he was dead.

But Kolivan just dropped his head in his hands. “I was too late...”

The tense shoulders each of them had, dropped as the tension slowly dissipated from the room, only to be taken over by confusion. Lance grabbed Keith’s still injured body, dragging him closer. He wrapped a protective arm around him, giving Kolivan a slow look, not sure whether he was a friend or foe. But he didn’t seem shocked at how Keith looked, so he must know what it meant. 

“Has anyone else turned?” Kolivan asked, looking back to the two faces poking through the kitchen door. 

Krolia shook her head. "They aren't mine, only Keith,"

Kolivan's eyes widened, letting out a soft ‘oh’. “And your...husband?”

Keith sucked in a breath, his thoughts forced back to the crash, to the moment when he had lost both of his parents. To when his mother had to see them both be taken away from her, lifeless and cold, eyes blank, the last words she heard him say to her before the protective barrier he had created shattered and he died.

_“I love you...”_

_Dad..._

"He died,” Krolia forced out, her words shaking. “A-a long time ago,”

Kolivan suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He straightened, holding a hand out for his still grieving daughter. “Oh, my baby--”

“Why are you here?” she interrupted.

He cleared his throat, knowing he was going to have to work extra hard now to try and get a positive response from his daughter. “I left the House,” he repeated. “But Zarkon and his family. They’ve been doing...things, experimenting on people. I don’t know why or for what reason. Your father and I left about a month ago. But. I know they had taken a few kids in, kept them there for...for years, and...they were injecting one of the group of kids with something, something that turned them into...” he paused, looking at Keith. “I needed your help, to try and stop them. With your...with our abilities...we could pool together and try to stop them once and for all,”

“Why now?”

Kolivan sucked in a breath. "I...your father..."

"He's like me, isn't he?" Keith piped up, leaning in closer as he read the man's mind. Of how Zarkon had taken a tall, willowy looking man from their beds, injected him with something or another while he tortured Kolivan, making him watch as his husband turned into...into whatever monster Keith was now. “You’re my grandfather...and Antok is too. But he’s...they made him look like me,”

Keith paused, feeling Lance’s arm tighten around him. He was glad for the support, he desperately needed it now. But he...he was angry, thinking up all sorts of weird things, things that Keith hadn’t even thought about, things Keith was keeping locked up deep inside him at that moment.

This was his grandfather after all. His family. 

“Where were you?” Lance’s low, angry voice made something hot inside Keith start to grow to a bursting flame. “Where were you when Keith thought he lost both of his parents?” Lance’s voice grew in volume and rage as he spoke, but his words were steady. “Where were you when Keith had to spend his childhood in an orphanage? When he was forced to move from one house to another? Where were you when he was sick, or hurt, or in pain? Where were you when he was all alone? _Where were you?"_

“Lance!” Shiro cried out, trying to salvage the situation. He could feel just how sorry Kolivan was, just how shocked he was. Though Lance had a point, there was a more tactful way of asking these questions.

Though, with the fact that Kolivan may or may not have known about Keith, he didn’t seem to know that Keith’s father had passed, or that his mother had been held captive for four years. It had allowed him the pleasure to adopt Keith and call him his son. But he too wanted to know.

Keith’s voice was a hushed whisper when he spoke. “Lance...” he grasped at Lance’s arm, bringing him back from his rage. 

Lance gave Keith one look, taking a look at him, how sad he was, how there were tears prickling the corners of his beautiful yellow eyes, how his cute cat ears were pressed down to his hair. How despondent and downright rejected he looked, and he couldn't take it.

He lifted his hand, twisting his fingers and the world around them stopped. When he was sure everyone, but Keith, was frozen in time, he let out a scream. One so loud it pierced through the air and frightened Keith.

“No, I know what you’re thinking, but no.” Lance started, not giving Keith a chance to speak. “You are perfect and beautiful and wonderful, and those fucking assholes are the ones who are the monsters. I don’t care if he didn’t know about your family, or about you. He should have tried, he should have done something, instead of just leave you.”

“Lance.”

Lance cut him off again, pacing back and forth in the space before them. “No! He is not getting any sympathy from me. Nuh-huh, that monster shouldn’t be allowed in this house, he shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near you.” 

He couldn’t look at the others in the room, he couldn’t even look at Keith, for fear of doing something he knew he shouldn’t. He had been one of the people that had been kidnapped by the Galrans. They had met Lotor face to face and that monster had turned his Keith into this – though Keith was still beautiful, he was so closed off and anxious now. No, none of them were allowed near his estrellas. None of them were to even talk to him. 

Keith grabbed him as he passed, holding onto his shoulders and turning him until he looked directly into those true blue eyes, seeing all the love and care that was shining through them. Love and care for him.

“We need to hear him out,” He tried, speaking slowly, trying to force his words into the thoughts rushing through Lance’s mind. “He said he knows a way to stop them, a way to help put a stop to all of this.”

It took a while – a longer while than Keith would have thought, but Lance relaxed, he leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together and letting out a breath. 

“Fine.”

Keith pressed a quick and deep kiss to his pouting lips, thanking him. Lance nodded, sucking in a breath and turning the time back to normal again. He let go of Keith, but didn’t let him get too far away. He was still adamant that Keith not going anywhere near that monster.

Kolivan looked rightly confused at what had caused Lance to go from standing and yelling at him, to wrapped around Keith, holding him close. But he was instead forced to look into Lance’s steel blue gaze, a sliver of fear shuddering like a bolt of lightning down his spine.

“I’m not going to apologise for what I said,” Lance stated, “But Keith made a valid point, you know a way to stop them. So...tell us what you know,"

Kolivan stood up, the whole room tensed, as if he were about to attack. He instead shook his head. Not expecting anything less.

“I think it’s better to show you instead,” With a snap of his fingers, all eight of them found themselves in a large abandoned warehouse. It was eerily similar to the one they had been in before. Just in memory of that made Lance wrap his arms around his estrellas.

But Keith shook his head, lacing their fingers together as he stood tall, bravely facing what was to come, though Lance knew he was frightened inside. 

There was a steel chair in the middle of the room, spikes coming out from it and penetrating into the lone person sitting on it.

Lotor!

**Author's Note:**

> So...what did you think?  
> Please correct me if any of my Spanish, Japanese or Korean is wrong. I gotta say now, I will suck at it.


End file.
